Agony of Spirit
by dreamer one
Summary: “The most severe torture is that which touches one’s spirit.” Jack/Sam established relationship.
1. Chapter 1 The Moon Base

Agony of Spirit

A/N: This story takes place shortly after the action of Continuum.

Chapter 1: The Moon-Base

The sun shone high in a clear cerulean blue sky. And in this small, isolated corner of the world, two overly responsible Air Force officers were taking some much deserved downtime, together.

_It's so beautiful_, the younger of the two thought. Dressed in nothing more than a baby blue bikini, stretched out on an oversized beach towel spread over warm white sand, the lovely middle-aged woman smiled to herself as she considered her life. A high decorated officer and now, a married woman, she had it all, good health, a challenging career and a man who loved her with all his heart. _What more could anyone want?_

What more, indeed. _Dad would be so happy for me_, she thought. And she was right. Jacob Carter, a retired Air Force General and host to the Tok'ra, Selmak, had died with one wish in his heart. He fervently hoped his only daughter would find love and happiness with the man who was right for her. Not so long ago, that had happened. Sam only wished her father had lived to see the day. _I am happy, Dad, truly happy._

She'd finally risked her heart, gone after the life she wanted. For so many years, Sam Carter had let regulations stand in her way, or at least offer her a good excuse to deny what her replicated self had called her "deepest desires". Well, she'd left those days behind and on a fateful morning a little over a year ago, she'd made her desires known to the one who needed to know. And the rest was history.

"If you ask me, this is an excellent 'moon base'," Sam said to her companion. Normally an intense workaholic, she was more relaxed today than she had been in a long time. And she had good reason to be.

At her side, a deep chuckle rose from the man who'd been her commanding officer not so very long ago. Now he was her only human companion on this tiny tropical island.

"Told you," was the man's only response.

Jack O'Neill was thoroughly enjoying the sun, sand and surf of this small private island somewhere in the Caribbean. Better yet, he was enjoying some well deserved time off from his high pressured Washington post. And, best of all, his wife of four months, was with him. Yep, this was their 'moon-base', their get away. No pagers allowed. No pesky airmen, messengers, secretaries, no bad guys, in short, just Jack and Sam, alone, hidden from the world for an all too brief respite.

They'd been together all of six months now. After the first two, Jack was beside himself with frustration over how little time they had together what with the above mentioned distractions. Voila, the moon-base. A high placed Washington insider who'd taken a shine to the irascible General had offered the use of this well placed paradise whenever Jack saw fit to use it. Needless to say, he planned to use it often.

This afternoon was the second day of an all too short weekend away. The O'Neills were due back in the real world first thing Monday morning. Soon this glorious day would be no more than a memory. But for the moment, they were alone, with each other. And they were making the most of it.

To that end, Jack abruptly decided sun bathing and nap time were over. It was nearly two in the afternoon. At the very least it was time for some serious sunscreen re-application and probably a swim. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he looked down at Sam, still lying peacefully on her back, her hands casually at her sides.

"Hey," she said, sensing his change of position despite her semi-alert, half-awake state. Taking off her shades she looked at him from her recumbent position and smiled a slow, lazy smile. It was so special to have this time, only with him. They'd waited so long.

"What do you say we take a swim," Jack suggested once he felt he had her attention.

"Sounds good to me," Sam said. "We are at risk for being overcooked out here, aren't we?"

"Race you!" Jack yelled, jumping up and running full tilt into the waves.

"No fair," Sam screamed after him. Only a step behind, she jumped the incoming wave, right behind Jack. For the next fifteen minutes they took turns dunking each other, swimming, and enjoying each other in the warm sun-kissed waters. And laughing, they did a lot of that when they were on their 'moon-base'. By the time they doggie paddled ashore, they were pleasantly exhausted, collapsing side by side just out of reach of the cresting waters.

Once she'd regained her equilibrium, Sam rolled over to straddle her husband. Looking down at his rugged features, she smiled to see the adolescent twinkle in his eye.

"I can't believe us," she said. "We're acting like a couple of kids."

"Your point?" With that rhetorical comment, Jack deftly flipped her and reversed their positions, unleashing yet another high pitched squeal from Sam.

"Mrs. O'Neill," he said, "I'm convinced you didn't do nearly enough of this kid stuff when you were a kid. It's up to me to help you make up for that missing part of your childhood."

"Oh, is that what this is all about?"

"Well, not all of it," he admitted. "The kissing and other stuff, that's not so much about your childhood. That's about the project we're working on."

Sam looked at him quizzically.

"You do remember the project?"

Realization came quickly. So that's what he'd decided to call it.

"I remember," Sam said. "You mean our secret mission." When they'd first decided on code name 'moon-base' for their little hide away, they'd also taken on a 'special mission' they weren't quite ready to share with their friends.

"Yeah," Jack said. "Operation Baby O'Neill".

Sam giggled. Some days she swore her incredible husband, the Major General, was fifty-five going on fifteen.

"That's the one," she quipped. "And I think it was _my_ idea."

"Only because you said it first," he teased, kissing her soundly. "Remember, I came up with the 'moon-base'."

"I know, I know," she admitted, kissing him back. "This is the only place we see each other long enough to do anything about baby O'Neill."

"Speaking of which," he said. "What do you say we retire to someplace a bit cooler and do some more work on that project?"

With that, Jack gently pulled Sam up to face him. Still sitting side by side on the pristine white beach, Jack couldn't help notice Sam's sudden change of mood. The playfulness had seeped away. Serious Sam was back.

"How are we going to take care of a baby? As it is, aside from these getaways we hardly see each other," she observed sadly.

"I was hoping maybe we'd try living in the same house," Jack suggested. His comment was rewarded with a wry smile from his wife.

"At least we're on the same planet now," she observed.

"There's that," Jack agreed, reaching out to smooth hair from Sam's eyes. "Still me in Washington, you in Nevada …"

"I know," she said. "It's better than one of us being off world, but if we're going to be parents …"

"It's time we settled down like grown-ups," he said.

Sam smiled softly and leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said. "It's time."

"Really?" Jack asked. "You're not just saying that to agree with me?"

"Me?"

"There's that," Jack said. "I don't want you to regret anything, Sam." Regardless of the joys they'd shared the past few months, Jack worried the time would come when Sam would wake up and wonder why she'd settled for him when she could have had so much more. The last thing he wanted to do was take away her freedom, diminish her in any way.

"I love you," she said. Taking his face in her hands, she looked him straight in the eye, letting him know she meant every word. "I'll never regret anything about 'us'. I'm ready to be part of a family, Jack. If that means actually living with my husband, I say it's an idea whose time has come."

OoOoOo

Much later, as the sun was slowly drifting toward the horizon, the island's two guests sat side by side on the veranda of their bungalow. It was the only structure on the island and for now, their home away from home. They were enjoyed every last minute of this precious time together.

"The seaplane comes at 0700," Jack observed. His voice was soft and tentative. "We should probably get some sleep tonight."

"I know," Sam said sadly. She turned to face Jack and held his hand a little tighter. "I think I could stay here with you forever."

"At least we're going on this next little assignment together," he said. Sam's sentiment, unrealistic as it was, caused his heart to beat a little faster. "We should be at the SGC for our briefing by noon," Jack continued. "Then we're off to see the Enkarans for that diplomatic shindig with Daniel and Teal'c. Should be fun: no risk, safety assured, only friendly aliens, yadda, yadda …"

"There's that," Sam replied. "Guess I should be grateful for small favors."

"Yep, me too …" Once more Jack reached over to intertwine his fingers with Sam's.

And they sat back to enjoy the remaining hours of their private time together.

They had no idea what was waiting for them.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Welcome to a new Sam and Jack story. Hope you like it. As always I'd love to hear from you. Comments, suggestions, constructive criticism welcome.


	2. Chapter 2 The Invitation

A/N: This chapter references the season 4 episode, Scorched Earth. Background from this episode will provide source material for some of the next few chapters.

Chapter 2: The Invitation

At the SGC …

Daniel Jackson stood at the elevator waiting for the rest of his old team. It had been too long since they'd all been together. Four months since Jack and Sam's wedding and, actually, only three months since they'd traveled through the gate to witness the ceremonial destruction of the Goa'uld, Ba'al. It seemed like forever.

That last trip had been a pretty routine off world stop. No muss, no fuss, just the end of the last system lord. Fun, actually. So what if Jack had almost fallen asleep listening to all that chanting before the show got started. That was Jack. You had to love him.

At least Sam did, loved him that is. Daniel had finally caught on to the 'moon-base' cover. He'd underestimated his friends' romantic bent and their determination to find alone time. Well, they deserved it after all. And the team would all be together again soon, at least for a couple days. He had to admit, he missed the camaraderie. Sure he had a new team, but it would never be quite the same.

Daniel and the others had been summoned by General Landry two days ago. The SGC had received a voice transmission from Enkara, the original, long lost Enkaran homeworld. The communication was totally unexpected. After all, they'd been told the planet didn't have a Gate.

"Daniel!" Jack roared as he exited the elevator, fully two steps ahead of Sam. "Long time no see."

"I was going to say that," Daniel replied, jolted out of his silent musings. "It sounds like we're going to a party."

"Old times," Jack said. "It was always a party for SG1."

"Right … that's how I remember it," Daniel said.

"Is that sarcasm I hear?" Sam walked up and hugged Daniel, shaking her head as she did so. "Don't mind him, Daniel, he's incorrigible," she continued, "and he's getting worse with age."

Jack pulled the innocent look Sam had grown to love.

"Who, me? What did I say?"

"O'Neill," Teal'c called as he came around the corner to find his old friends waiting for him.

"That's what I'm talking about," Jack said, "the gang's all here. It's about time."

OoOoOo

Without much more delay, the reunited team made their way to the briefing room. It had been some time since Jack O'Neill's team briefed for an off world mission. He had to admit, he was itching to go through the Gate again, even if it was for a boring diplomatic visit.

"The lovebirds are back," Vala announced as the O'Neills made their way through General Landry's office and into the familiar conference room. With its bird's eye view of the Gate, this room had hosted many similar sessions for the original flagship team of the SGC. At the table, Cam Mitchell had been waiting with Vala. He cringed at her typically audacious comment, daring to look up at General O'Neill to gauge his reaction. Worse yet, the younger military officer barely had time to pull the alien woman back into her seat after she'd jumped up to give the General a welcome home hug. _Now that would be a sight to behold,_ Cam thought.

Hank Landry quickly took his place at the head of the conference table as the others seated themselves silently. Fortunately, Jack and Samantha O'Neill reverted to professional form as soon as they entered this arena. By force of will, they were able to ignore Vala's comment aside from Sam's wide eyed expression and a brief cockeyed grin from Jack. Daniel sat next to Vala and gave her a glare guaranteed to freeze her in her tracks. And Teal'c, well he was inscrutable as always.

General Landry cleared his throat to bring the briefing to order.

"As you know, four of you have been invited to attend a celebration on the Enkaran homeworld as their honored guests," Landry began. "Apparently, they haven't forgotten the enormous effort you and your team expended on their behalf, Jack."

"They're good people," Jack said. "We're glad it worked out."

"It almost didn't," Daniel added.

"Indeed."

"Well, they want to thank their saviors," Landry said. "Hedrezar says things have gone well since the Gadmeer returned them to Enkara."

"That's wonderful, I'm happy for them, really I am," Vala said. But why can't Colonel Mitchell and I go too," Vala said indignantly. "We're part of SG1 and you all know how much I love parties."

Sam held her head in her hands for a moment. She'd come to value the other woman's friendship, but there were times …

"You and Colonel Mitchell will have some downtime during which I intend to see some reports written," Landry responded flatly. "However, I wanted you both here for this briefing to familiarize yourselves with the situation. After this one meeting, it may well be up to our current teams to follow up on an unprecedented opportunity for culture exchange."

"If you don't mind me asking," Cam ventured, "how so, Sir. I thought this was just a simple thank you from a fairly primitive people."

"There's that," Jack supplied nonchalantly. "But they're _good_ simple people, the best."

"And they have an unorthodox connection to a technologically advanced race we know very little about," Landry added. "In fact, that race, the Gadmeer, apparently want to get to know us."

"Really?" Daniel exclaimed. "That's fascinating. So, they kept in touch… through Lotan?"

"Back up a minute," Cam interrupted. "I've read the report, but I'm not so sure I'm up to speed on the connection between these two races. Care to fill me in?"

With that, Sam stepped up to provide an explanation.

"Cam, as you know, six years ago SG1 found two hundred refugee Enkarans on a routine survey mission. They'd fled there to escape the Goa'uld, but they were slowly dying of radiation poisoning. We found what we thought was the perfect planet for them to relocate, one with an extraordinarily thick ozone layer, thick enough to protect them from the radiation that was slowly stealing their eyesight. Everything was going well until the Gadmeer showed up."

Jack continued the story from his point of view.

"They had this big ship terraforming the planet. Burning off the atmosphere, replacing it with some really stinky stuff that would have killed the Enkarans, but apparently was what the Gadmeer folks liked."

"So these Gadmeer," Vala interrupted, "what kind of people were they?"

"See they weren't exactly people," Jack said. "More like reptiles on two legs with really big tails" he said, stretching out his arms as far as they would go, while Sam rolled her eyes. "And we didn't actually get to meet them. It seems their civilization had been dead thousands of years; some of them were freeze dried samples on that ship."

"The plan was to revive their civilization in a new world of their own making," Teal'c supplied. "They believed P5S-381 to be uninhabited."

"And it was," Sam added, "until we relocated the Enkarans."

"So you had a problem," Vala observed.

"That we did," Jack said, recalling the near tragedy that had befallen the Enkarans.

"But you settled it," Mitchell said.

"Wasn't easy," Daniel said. "It was a no win situation, at least at the beginning. SG1, mostly Jack, faced a bleak choice between two civilizations. One culture, extremely advanced and by all standards, alien; the other simple, friendly and humanoid. And there we were in the position to play god, to decide which culture, which civilization had the right to survive. Because, given the circumstances, only one _could_ survive.

"If I read the records correctly, Dr. Jackson," Hank Landry interjected, "SG1 was saved from making that choice by a serendipitous discovery."

"You could say that, Sir," Daniel agreed, warming to his subject. "See, the Gadmeer had scanned thousands of planets looking for their new home. Without knowing it, they'd located the original Enkaran homeworld. Lotan volunteered to take the Enkarans there."

"Lotan?" Vala asked. "You mean the Gadmeer ship's artificial intelligence."

"I suppose you could call him that," Sam said. "But he started to think of himself as Enkaran."

"Alright people, now that we've done the history lesson," Landry interrupted, "can we get on with the mission." Jack hadn't remembered his friend Hank being this impatient; then again, it had been awhile.

Landry finally took the floor to begin the formal briefing.

"In the brief transmission we received, Hedrezar, the leader of the Enkaran population you knew, said her people had easily been assimilated into the prevailing culture. According to her, their largely agrarian way of life has remained unchanged."

"What did she say about the discovery of the Gate?" Daniel asked excitedly.

"According to Hedrezar, the Enkaran gate was excavated only recently. Seems it was there all along."

"Who knew?" Jack quipped. "Apparently not the Enkarans."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"The whole story is incredible," Daniel remarked.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Here he goes," he whispered to Sam.

"Think of it. The ways their cultures diverged, then dovetailed, how they integrated their histories. And then the discovery of the Stargate. That couldn't have been easy. And Lotan, what a story he'll be able to tell, part of an entirely different culture …" _Stuff of legend, _Daniel thought.

"Easy, Space Monkey," Jack said, eliciting a strange look from Vala.

"Before I give this mission a go," Landry said, "we're sending a MALP. We've never been to Enkara. Despite what they say we need to check it out. You and your team might want to be here for that, Jack. I'm thinking even our MALP will meet a friendly reception committee, probably with a message for you.

And sure enough, Landry was right. Thirty minutes later when the MALP crossed the event horizon and made its way to Enkara, Hedrezar, Lotan and "Colonel Jack" were there to meet it.

Lotan began.

"It is good to see all of you again, if only from such a distance." Lotan was much as the team remembered him, a calm, peaceful, non-assuming sort now dressed in native Enkaran garb. If they hadn't known he was originally a creation of the Gadmeer ship, they'd have been none the wiser.

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill, it is good to see you," Hedrezar agreed, her blind gaze directed just toward the left of the MALP's camera. "We are anxious to welcome you to Enkara, the home you made possible for us. We have waited much too long to thank you."

"Who's the kid?" Jack asked in his usual flip tone.

Hedrezar smiled, glancing down at the now six-year-old boy standing silently at her side, holding her hand.

"This is my grandson, Colonel Jack," she said. "Remember, we promised to name the first new Enkaran after you, Colonel."

OoOoOo

On Enkara …

Once the MALP transmission had ended, Lotan left precipitously, taking Colonel Jack with him. Eliam emerged from behind the MALP to join his mother.

"You cannot do this to them," Eliam said. "We cannot deceive them this way. They deserve better."

"You speak the truth," the aging leader said. "It pains me greatly to do this, my son. But we have no choice."

Though she could not see the one who'd held the weapon to her son's head during the transmission, Hedrezar knew he was still watching.

TBC

* * *

A/N: It was great to hear from so many of you after Chapter 1. Hope this story meets your expectations.

Please continue to review.


	3. Chapter 3 The Welcome

Chapter 3: The Welcome

Less than fifteen minutes after the MALP transmission, Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter-ONeill, Daniel Jackson and Teal'c arrived on Enkara. Crossing the event horizon they came face to face with a polite, well mannered assemblage of Enkarans. After all these years, the small gathering included several familiar faces, including Hedrezar, her son and daughter-in-law. Surprisingly, Lotan was not with them.

Nikka was the first to walk out to greet the visitors, warmly reaching out to Jack, wrapping her arms around him as if he were a long lost friend.

"Welcome, Colonel O'Neill," she said happily, her smile genuine and bright. "Welcome to you all. "Hedrezar, come to our guests. They await you." Nikka was able to greet the newcomers with the enthusiasm of the innocent as she was unaware of her mother-in- law's burden. She'd been purposely shielded so she could play her role in the unfolding drama. _The visitors must not suspect anything is wrong_, Hedrezar had told her son.

The older woman's greeting was considerably more subdued. Hedrezar appeared to have aged beyond her years. She looked as if she'd been ill a long while. Sam in particular, regarded her with concern. In fact she was thinking of inviting the Enkaran woman to earth for a medical exam.

"Welcome," the Enkaran leader offered. "You are the honored guests of all our people. We owe you debts of gratitude for reuniting our people."

"The honor is ours, Hedrezar," Jack replied. Though he disliked diplomatic assignments, he was willing to give it his best. "Your invitation said things are good for you here. We're looking forward to seeing what you've done with the place."

"Yes," Daniel added, "and I'm especially interested to hear how your society has integrated its new members, not to mention. .."

"Ack," Jack interrupted. "Daniel, give our hosts a break, we just got here."

Nikka stepped forward. "We will be more than happy to answer all of your questions, Dr. Jackson," she said. "But for now, you have come a long way and we would make you welcome."

With that Nikka happily led the way to the village where the others were awaiting their arrival.

OoOoOo

Some things never change.

Teal'c was a warrior, a protector, suspicious by nature. Today was no exception. The normally taciturn mountain of a man was in full Jaffa mode as he took in his surroundings on the brief jaunt to the Enkaran village. The pleasant journey was marked by the occasional traveling Enkaran who would stop and welcome the strangers to their world. They were, by nature, an extraordinarily hospitable people.

What's more the natural beauty of the place was magnificent. A temperate climate, added to the charms of a gently flowing stream, singing birds and brightly colored trees and plant life, gave one the impression of paradise. How difficult it must have been for the chosen Enkarans to depart this world for the slavery of Goa'uld oppression. For a moment, Teal'c once again felt the guilt and remorse of his own past bad acts, the legacy of torture and cruelty left him by Apophis and others of his ilk. He would do all he could to redress those wrongs. Today was part of that resolve, though he did not feel worthy of the adulation the Enkarans seemed willing to send his way. He would have been more than content with their forgiveness. Still, despite all of this, something wasn't quite right.

As they approached the village, Teal'c could hear music and the sounds of conversation. He recalled the stamina and determination of these people. They were a strong race; they had survived much and lived life fully. Yet today, despite talk of celebration, many of these people looked anything but joyous.

OoOoOo

Nikka and Sam were at the head of the procession and were the first to enter the village.

"Where are all the children?" Sam asked. The hubbub of children running to and fro was something she recalled from their last visits with the Enkarans. Today, their absence seemed odd.

"Oh, they are in their school," Nikka answered blithely.

"Of course," Sam said. "I remembered them out playing last time we were with you. And I have to admit I was hoping to meet your son."

"Yes," Nikka said. "I too am eager for you to meet our Colonel Jack."

Sam smiled. She couldn't believe they'd named the boy "Colonel Jack".

"Is that not your husband's name?"

OoOoOo

In the village, the visitors were offered food and drink around a central table.

"I had hoped to speak with Lotan," Daniel said. "He is here, isn't he?"

"I'd almost forgotten," Hedrezar answered. "You are the one who convinced him to stay with us so long ago. We have you to thank for his presence among us."

Despite the calmness of her voice, Daniel could have sworn she didn't think this was a good thing.

"And he is ..?"

"He is with us, Daniel," Hedrezar said. Her voice was muted and she failed to make eye contact as she spoke. "He is with our children at the school. He will see you soon."

OoOoOo

Sure enough, after the evening meal, SG1 was summoned to meet with Lotan and the rest of the ruling council. They'd been told this was the first step toward possible diplomatic relations with the Gadmeer.

When they entered the tent, they were more than a little surprised to find only Lotan present. He stood silently, much as they had first found him on the Gadmeer ship. Still something was different. In place of the sedate, restrained Enkaran male clothed in a nondescript white robe, they found a widely smiling, ebullient man, dressed in colorful, even flashy clothing.

"Welcome," Lotan called out to them. "I have been awaiting your arrival."

Slowly, Sam began to recognize an old familiar foreboding. A feeling deep in her being she'd not felt for sometime, one she'd almost forgotten. _It couldn't be._

Daniel stepped forward to greet Lotan while Sam moved closer to Jack, struggling to find her inner voice.

"It's good to see you, Lotan," Daniel said. Looking around the tent, Daniel was surprised to find no other Enkarans present. "I thought we were meeting with the ruling council," Daniel observed, "not that …"

At that moment, Sam leaned in to Jack and spoke so only he could hear.

"He's Goa'uld," she whispered.

For obvious reasons, SG1 had left all weapons outside the tent where they expected to meet peacefully with old friends. With his years of training, Jack knew better than to show any sudden physical reaction to Sam's words. He also knew enough to trust her instincts implicitly. But without weapons they were sitting ducks.

They had to get out of here.

As Jack processed his next move, Lotan addressed Daniel and the rest.

"For now, Dr. Jackson," he said, "I am the only one available. Perhaps we should begin."

"As a matter of fact, Lotan," Jack interrupted, "much as we appreciate your hospitality, its not a good time for us. Lots happening on the home front, you know. We really must be going."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Lotan said.

"You're telling us we're not free to leave?"

As if on cue, half a dozen armed Jaffa appeared at the entrance of the tent, weapons trained on SG1.

Jack winced. _When was it ever easy_?

"Now that the formalities are out of the way, perhaps we can get down to business," Lotan said, his eyes flashing ominously. "General, if you please … bring your lovely wife and join me here," he said.

When Jack hesitated, one of Lotan's Jaffa nudged him none too gently with his staff weapon. When Teal'c attempted to intervene, he was treated to a staff blast to his right leg, effectively stopping his effort to help his teammates.

"Now, now, don't make me cause any more damage to you," Lotan soothed. "The Enkarans truly love SG1. They would be so disappointed if you were all dead."

As if to avoid further injury to their team, Jack and Sam complied with Lotan's request, coming to stand on either side of him, as directed.

In seconds the familiar rings of the ancient Goa'uld transportation device materialized and all three vanished from sight.

Teal'c and Daniel looked on in horror

TBC

* * *

A/N: So finally, the set up is over, and we're off. I'm delighted to see how many of you already have the story on story alert. Hope you stay with it!


	4. Chapter 4 Explanations

Chapter 4: Explanations

No sooner had Jack, Sam and Lotan vanished from sight than the Jaffa made their way to the reseting ring platform. With fully charged staff weapons trained on their every move, Teal'c and Daniel were powerless to stop the warriors from making their escape.

"Damn it!" Daniel exclaimed once the rings had activated again.

Before he could turn to Teal'c for his reaction, the larger man had dragged himself from the tent, grabbed his weapon and hobbled off to the central square of the village where Hedrezar and the others were waiting.

"We are sorry," was Hedrezar's immediate response.

"Sorry?" Daniel echoed. "You know what just happened?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Where has he taken them?" Teal'c asked. He had no patience for wondering how or why the seemingly innocent Enkarans were involved in the abduction of his friends.

"Come, sit," Eliam beckoned. Then noticing Teal'c's wound, "Let me help you."

"Leave me be," the injured Jaffa bellowed. "Where are they?"

"We do not know where they have been taken," Hedrezar admitted. "But we will tell you what we know."

OoOoOo

"Where are we?"

The familiar voice jolted her. Sam woke up slowly. Her head hurt. It was the aftermath of a zat blast. She recognized the leftover burning sensation she could feel throughout her body. Still, there was more; she was certain they had been drugged as well. She was dizzy. Opening her eyes, she saw a small sparsely furnished room. She was sitting on a cold metal floor. Jack was at her side. And he was awake, looking for answers.

"Sam, where are we?" Jack repeated. Then, seeing her still struggling to get her bearings, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Sam said, "You?"

"Yeah, think so," he said. "Where are we?"

"I wish I knew," she said. Slowly, from her still seated position, her vision a bit blurry, Sam took inventory of the room. She found one narrow bed, two chairs and a table. There was also what appeared to be a washroom of sorts over to the side, complete with sink and toileting facilities. There were no windows; all light appeared to emanate from a single source embeded in the wall. And there was a camera. Whoever had abducted them hadn't bothered to hide it. They were being watched.

OoOoOo

On Enkara, the two remaining members of SG1 were introduced to the ruling council and its current leader, Jaylin.

This group of five men and women, recently come out of hiding, explained what amounted to an ambush. If they were to be believed, the entire visit had been orchestrated by the Goa'uld specifically for the purpose of abducting the O'Neills. To the great dismay and shame of the council, they had been complicit with the plot.

"Please understand,"Jaylin pleaded. "Many of our children were held to guarantee our silence. For the past two weeks, Lotan's Jaffa have kept them in the school, refusing to allow them to return to us at night. He promised to take them away for good if we did not cooperate with him. We could not allow that to happen."

"The Goa'uld have no respect for life, even for the lives of innocent children," Teal'c observed. His face set like flint, steeled against the pain in his leg and raw with fury over the disappearance of his friends, he felt empathy for the plight of the Enkarans. It was a feeling Daniel shared.

"I'm sorry you were placed in such a position," Daniel said. "But how could a Goa'uld infest a biomechanical facsimile created by the Gadmeer ship?" Daniel asked, directing his question to Hedrezar.

The woman shook her head sadly. "That is something far beyond our ken, Daniel. But we do know the man we'd come to trust as one of us was never the same after that ship crashed. He knew where to find your Stargate and other Goa'uld artifacts we'd long ago forgotten."

"Ship crashed?"

Impatiently, hoping it would lead to the rescue of their friends, Daniel and Teal'c listened to the council's recap of the recent history of Enkara. The elders recalled how they had welcomed their returning brothers and sisters six years ago when they were delivered unexpectedly by the Gadmeer. As Hedrezar had said, the refugees were accepted without question and easily integrated into the larger society of five thousand Enkarans. Even Lotan came to belong among these people.

Then, Jaylin, a man who looked to be in his early thirties, did his best to explain the current situation on Enkara.

"Three months ago, everything the rank and file Enkarans believed about their history was turned upside down. You see, all extant Enkaran history points toward a time long ago when the Goa'uld visited the planet briefly, abducting less than a thousand of our people to work in the naquadah mines off world. As far as most present day Enkarans know, the Goa'uld left soon after that abduction, leaving our world without further trace of their presence. That was until Lotan's transformation."

"Okay," Daniel said, "a few questions. You said most Enkarans believed this. That means not everyone."

"That is correct," Jaylin replied. "The truth of what occurred here under Goa'uld domination was entrusted to a select few whose descendants serve even now as our ruling body. "

"You concealed the truth from your own people," Teal'c accused.

"Yes," Jaylin admitted. "We chose to rewrite our history. We are a small race, a simple people, faithful and committed to each other. When any of us suffer, we all suffer. The fact that hundreds of Enkarans were taken from us was anathema. Being powerless to help them was intolerable. Once the Goa'uld were gone, all we wanted to do was forget and begin again.

"Three months ago, a strange "star" appeared in the night sky. At least that is how we described it to our people. It was a Goa'uld vessel. By the next day, a smaller scout ship had crash landed. Jaffa had arrived and Lotan began to change.

OoOoOo

"You're awake. That's wonderful!"

Lotan stood at the solitary entrance of the room, facing Jack and Sam, still seated side by side on the floor. An armed Jaffa stood on either side of the Goa'uld. The guards held their position while Lotan advanced on his prisoners.

Once he'd caught sight of their captor, Jack had managed to awkwardly pull himself to a standing position. As he was turning to help Sam up, Lotan reached out a hand to do just that.

"Don't touch her," Jack said, surprising himself with his protectiveness and moving to place himself between his wife and Lotan.

The corners of Lotan's normally pleasant lips turned up in a self satisfied smirk.

"You needn't worry, O'Neill," he said. "I will not lay a hand on your lovely wife. Not yet. But some day. Some day she will beg for my touch. But you are right, the time is not now."

He continued, his eyes focused on Jack.

"Now, _you_ will come with me."

TBC

* * *

A/N: The plot thickens. And yes, I realize more explanations are needed -- they will be forthcoming.

Please review.


	5. Chapter 5 Vengeance

Chapter 5: Vengeance

Once Lotan had taken Jack, Sam was alone in the room. She'd been in this situation before. Somehow at the moment, that was cold comfort.

She wasn't ready for this. None of them were ready for this. It was supposed to be a simple diplomatic visit. Jack was nearly retired and she hadn't been in harm's way since she'd left Atlantis. She and Jack finally had their happily ever after. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Then again, no one ever promised her life would be fair or predictable. _Of all people, I should know that by now_, she thought.

Shaking herself out of the initial shock and denial, Sam began to tackle the problem at hand.

She didn't know where they were or who had them. How did Lotan become a Goa'uld anyway? And what was he doing with Jack? What did he want?

She needed to make the most of her time while Lotan was focusing his attention elsewhere. Hopefully they wouldn't be watching her quite so closely. If she could come up with a way out, they'd have a chance.

Sam canvassed the contents of her prison cell. That's what it was after all, regardless of the fact there were no bars and it was somewhat brighter than others she'd experienced. A somewhat gilded prison cell with fresh water, towels and unexpected cleanliness, but a prison cell nonetheless.

To her dismay, there were none of the typical Goa'uld locking devices in evidence. She'd become adept at jimmying these over the years. Instead, the door was recessed, no latches, visible locks or motion detectors. She guessed the mechanism was voice activated and calibrated to a distinct frequency. Finding it could be the equivalent of searching for a needle in a haystack.

She closed her eyes, did her best to calm her mind for a moment and listened for the telltale hum of a ship's engine. It wasn't there; there was no sound, no vibration, nothing. They'd been transported off the planet, she'd assumed to the Goa'uld's orbiting ship. Had they already been taken somewhere else? If so, where? And how would a rescue party ever find them?

_First things first, _she told herself. _Find a way out of this room, then figure out the rest of the story. _Of course, that could be easier said than done. _Unless, of course, Lotan wants to help us out with some information, _she thought.

Lotan, now that was strange, Sam thought. To see such a pleasant, peaceful man transformed into their captor was shocking. Who was he, what Goa'uld? And what did he want from them? What had they done with Daniel and Teal'c? What was he doing to Jack?

OoOoOo

Jack hung helplessly. Suspended from wrist manacles, his arms ached. But that was only the beginning. He'd been treated to a good old fashioned working over. Punched more times than he could count by Jaffa twice his size, burned by pain sticks and generally humiliated, he was ready for this particular day to be over. He was too old for this.

Sure enough, as he began to surrender to unconsciousness, Lotan made his appearance. For better or worse, the Goa'uld had been surprisingly absent during this particular torture session. In fact, after an hour of misery, Jack still had no idea what Lotan wanted. The Goa'uld Jack O'Neill knew were usually a lot more direct in their interrogation techniques.

Getting his second wind, Jack fell back on his typical annoy the Goa'uld stick.

"Who are you?" He asked, keeping his head as audaciously upright as possible in spite of the pain ripping through his torso. "I hate being tortured by someone before we're properly introduced."

Lotan, dressed in flowing dark green robes, drew himself up to his full, rather unimpressive height. He came to stand directly in front of his bleeding prisoner.

"I am deeply injured," he claimed. "That you would not recognize me after all we've been through together."

"A name might help," Jack suggested.

"Insolent as ever," Lotan observed. "You want a name? You once suggested my first name was 'bocce'. Ring any bells?"

"Ba'al," Jack spat the name on a painful breath.

"At your service," the Goa'uld acknowledged. "I knew you'd figure it out."

"You're dead," Jack came back. "We saw it."

"Ah, but your mind is so linear, O'Neill," Jack's captor quipped.

"Yeah? Well you're not the first to tell me that. Not quite in those words…"

"You disappoint me," Ba'al interrupted. "I had hoped the great General O'Neill and the vaunted SG1 would understand things are not always as they seem."

OoOoOo

Sam's efforts to figure her way out of the cell were interrupted by Jack's return. Only he didn't come alone. And he didn't come under his own steam.

Shortly after Ba'al's self revelation, Jack had passed out in spite of himself. Now he was dragged into the room by two Jaffa and thrown in the corner of the cell. Sam went over to him immediately, sitting down by his side. The impact of his landing managed to bring him back to some level of consciousness, at least enough to register Sam's presence. But before they could greet each other, an unwelcome guest joined them.

"See, you are together again," the deep, Goa'uld voice crooned. "How could I keep such a perfect couple apart for long?"

"It's Ba'al," Jack croaked out for Sam's benefit.

Sam looked at Jack and then up at Ba'al in amazement. It wasn't worth questioning, but there was something she wanted, needed to know."

"What do you want?" Sam demanded, standing up to face him.

"Ah, my dear," Ba'al replied smugly, "that is the question. I am glad you asked."

"I already asked," Jack protested between groans.

"Yes, so my Jaffa said," Ba'al replied. "There is nothing I want from you, O'Neill. But Colonel Carter is another matter altogether."

Sam shot Ba'al/Lotan a withering look.

"Do not fear," he said, "What I want is something you are more than capable of providing, given your special talents. You see, I may still be alive, but thanks to the Taur'i, I have lost a great deal. All I left to me is vengeance. I will have it. And you will help me."

Sam swallowed and glanced down at Jack. Much as he wanted to stand at her side through this face off of sorts, Sam's wounded husband had all he could do to maintain a sitting position propped against the wall.

"How, exactly?" Sam asked.

"I was hoping you'd ask," a smiling Ba'al replied. "A naquadah bomb and the key to your Stargate iris, that's all I need Colonel."

Sam took a deep breath and realized for the first time what was going on here, why Jack was the only one taken.

"Sure, I'll get right on that," she said mockingly.

Jack choked back a snort. _She had to learn the sarcasm from me too, didn't she_, he thought.

Then Sam continued, "Even if I was willing to help you, it's impossible."

"Not at all, Colonel," Ba'al insisted. "With your expertise and knowledge of the SGC defenses, such a coup is quite possible. But will you do it?

"Quite a dilemma, is it not? Your husband or your friends at the SGC …"

He needn't have voiced the last sentence. She'd known what the bargain would be. It was painfully obvious.

"Enough for now," Ba'al said suddenly. "I will leave you two alone for a time. There are towels, fresh water, antiseptics, even some pain medications in the washing area. I've been told you have field medical training, Colonel. I so hope you put it to good use. I no longer have a sarcophagus at my disposal. I would hate to lose the General before he serves his purpose.

"Good luck, my dear."

OoOoOo

As Lotan took his leave, Sam focused her attention on Jack. He was still staring a hole in the door where Ba'al had just made his exit. Unguarded, beneath his fury, Sam saw the pain writ large in her husband's bearing. He remained hunched against the wall where the Jaffa had dropped him. One arm hugged his chest; breathing hurt. Sam was unsure if the grimace she saw was a response to the pain or his frustration that Ba'al was now out of reach.

Sam dropped to her knees beside her husband.

"Jack," she said softly.

He turned slowly to meet her eyes, wordlessly taking her hand.

"Come on," Sam said, "let's get you over to the bed."

"Give me a minute," Jack hissed, suppressing another moan of pain. "There's a couple broken ribs kicking my ass right now."

Sam nodded, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Oh no, you don't," Jack whispered. "No splints. Okay, I'm ready. Let's get that standing thing out of the way."

With effort, Sam eased Jack to his feet, her strong arms helping to support his battered frame. Together, they stumbled the few feet to the bed; its thin mattress and creaky springs sagged under the sudden burden of Jack's weight. Despite Sam's best efforts to lower him gently, Jack landed on the bed with a huff and yet another groan of misery.

While Jack caught his breath, Sam gathered supplies to tend to his wounds. She was surprised to see all that had been made available to her. Generosity had never been a Goa'uld trait. Whatever Lotan or Ba'al was up to, she knew she shouldn't take this for granted.

Returning to Jack's side, she began.

"Tell me where it hurts."

"Ribs…," Jack said haltingly. "Like I said, can't splint those Colonel."

"Haha," Sam replied. "Seriously, mister."

If he'd been up to it, Jack thought, he'd have fired off a mock salute. As it was, he knew it was time to stop with the jokes.

"Besides the ribs," he admitted, "my belly hurts pretty good."

"Okay," Sam said, "let me take a look."

OoOoOo

Thirty minutes later, Sam had completed her survey and the initial repair job, such as it was. No doubt Jack had received a carefully calculated beating, calculated to do just enough damage and no more. She'd managed to cleanse surface wounds, apply antiseptic to lacerations and clean bandages to some open burns. Of more concern was the likelihood of internal bleeding as the source of the abdominal pain. There was no way she could deal with that here. Neither one of them had wanted to use the pills Ba'al claimed were pain relievers. They could just as well be poison. They might be desperate enough later, but not now.

Sam sat by the bed, glad Jack had drifted off for a moment. It wasn't long.

"Hey," he said, pulling himself back to alertness. "What do think he's really up to?"

"I don't know," Sam answered. "He's asking me to send a bomb to the SGC. But he knows I'll never do that." Sam stopped, wondering anew what Ba'al hoped to gain by abducting them. "I can stall him for awhile …"

"Yeah," Jack said. "For awhile…"

When Sam didn't have an answer, Jack knew it was time to worry.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Seems I have a small select group of readers for this story; maybe the angst warning scared people off. However those of you reading are great, thanks for all your reviews and interest! It's wonderful to hear from you.

I'm thinking this chapter answered a few more questions and created yet some more. Patience please; more to be revealed soon.


	6. Chapter 6 Next Steps

Chapter 6: Next Steps

While Jack slept, Sam kept watch. She waited, watched and worried. There wasn't much else to do. As far as she could tell, there was nothing in the room they could use to finagle an escape.

The Jaffa came back two hours later. Sam assumed Ba'al had sent for one of them. She could only hope it wasn't Jack. _Please let him at least have time to get some strength back,_ she thought.

To her surprise, the Jaffa hadn't come for either of them. Instead, they brought dinner.

Clean water, decent food. Fresh fruit, something that seemed to be perfectly good cheese and brown bread, it wasn't exactly standard fare for a Goa'uld prison. Sam was grateful. But she knew it wouldn't last. She hoped Jack would wake up and be strong enough to eat it.

Much worse was coming. There was no way she could help anyone attack earth, let alone Ba'al. For all her talk about "stalling" for time, she realized there'd likely be little chance of that. As a Goa'uld, Ba'al knew perfectly well how to make a naquadah bomb. He was toying with her. All he needed from her was a way to penetrate the iris. The best she could hope to do was make him believe there was a way through other that the instantly expiring IDCs. Of course, there wasn't, but hopefully, Ba'al didn't know that. If she could play him, she could buy time. She had no doubt Jack would pay for any lack of cooperation on her part.

OoOoOo

Back on Enkara, the people who'd idolized SG1 as their saviors continued to struggle with the guilt of their betrayal. After everything the Taur'i had done for them, they'd turned two of the bravest people they knew over to those who'd victimized the Enkarans in the first place. It was an irony not lost on a sad and regretful people.

Teal'c had gone back to Earth, convinced someone needed to brief the SGC and organize a rescue team. He'd been a logical choice. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he desperately needed medical care for his badly injured leg.

Jaylin had offered to return with him and share what little he knew about the hidden Goa'uld history of his planet. However, in light the recent events, Daniel had managed to convince the earnest young leader his place was with his people. In lieu of going himself, Jaylin and the council provided Daniel with every document that survived the occupation and might lend a clue to the ancient history of their world. With the help of the Enkarans, Daniel believed he had a chance to help his friends. He had no idea what he'd find, but he needed a place to start and hoped these translations would help.

OoOoOo

At the SGC, Teal'c proved a less than stellar patient. Immediately upon arrival, his leg still bleeding, he'd insisted on taking a team of marines back to Enkara to seek clues as to his friends' whereabouts. When Landry pulled rank of sorts and ordered him to the infirmary he reluctantly acquiesced. Fortunately, Vala and Cam were available to talk a bit of sense into their friend and comrade in arms.

"Do you really think they're still on the planet?" Cam asked.

"No, I do not," Teal'c admitted. "They were transported, as I said, Colonel Mitchell, by a set of rings."

"And you said the Enkarans searched every area they could think of," Vala reflected.

"They did, but they do not have our resources," Teal'c rightfully observed.

"That's true," Cam admitted. "That's why Landry is sending a team of marines right now."

"We should be with them," Teal'c insisted.

"We will be, big guy," Cam said. "Let them get the scent, let the doctors take care of your leg and we're off."

Teal'c was more than ready to protest. In fact, he'd pulled out his intravenous line preparing to make a run for it. He'd gone off on his own before, he could do it again.

"Woo, hold it," Cam said, grabbing on for all he was worth. And as Teal'c tried to push ahead anyway, he found Vala standing in his way. Her hand pushed up against his chest, she spoke her peace.

"You have no idea where this Lotan took them," she said. "What do you intend to do, Muscles?"

"Get back in bed," called Dr. Eames, the physician in charge. "That's what he's going to do right now, aren't we Mr. Teal'c?"

"I will wait for word from Daniel Jackson," Teal'c agreed, but then I will depart.

He didn't need to wait for long.

OoOoOo

Daniel, with the help of the ruling council, was able to translate significant amounts of ancient Enkaran writings with relative ease. He was amazed by the detailed coverage of the short fifty years the Enkaran homeworld had been enslaved by the Goa'uld. From all accounts it had been a brutal regime, one which ended in a fit of pique from the System Lord who laid claim to the planet. Thanks to the long hidden records, Daniel now knew who that Goa'uld was.

"Dr. Jackson," General Landry greeted as soon as Daniel started down the ramp from the Gate. "Do you have anything for us?"

"Yes I think I do," he answered.

"Briefing room, now!" Landry ordered.

Within minutes, the chairs around the briefing room table were filled with the free members of SG1 and a second team of potential rescuers. All eyes were on Daniel, hoping he had the answers they needed.

"I think I know who has them," Daniel began.

"I believed the Enkarans were unaware of the Goa'uld's identity," Teal'c protested.

"I believe they still don't know who infested Lotan. But from the records, I know who the original Goa'uld Lord of Enkara was," Daniel said.

Everyone looked at the archeologist expectantly.

"Enkara belonged to Ba'al," Daniel finally revealed. "I think it's more than a coincidence we were lured to this particular planet. Ba'al would see Jack and Sam as valuable and be likely to see one of his old stomping grounds as a base of operations.

"From what I read, Enkara was one of Ba'al's favorite domains. He was furious when he learned the Enkarans could only survive on their home planet. That made them useless as warriors or as hosts."

"Fine, Ba'al controlled Enkara back in the day," Landry said, "and as the miserable, heartless bastard we've always known him to be. How does that help us figure out where he took our people?"

"We look at the other planets he controlled back then," Daniel said. "And we get some help from our friends."

OoOoOo

She'd fallen asleep sitting in the chair next to Jack. She'd been holding his hand, thinking about all those times they'd sat by each other's bedside in the infirmary, unable to show affection of any sort. At least they didn't have to hide from each other anymore.

"Mmm," Jack moaned quietly, starting to shift in the bed.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she said. "Nice of you to join me. I was starting to get lonely."

Jack stretched gingerly and started to push himself up. He felt better than he expected. Sure he ached all over, but the belly pain was better. His chest hurt, but bracing his ribs with a pillow helped. Without much difficulty he managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Feeling better?" Sam asked tentatively.

"Surprisingly, yes," Jack said. "Must be that first class nursing care," he grinned, doing his best to bring a smile to her face. "What do you say you give me a tour of our digs?"

Sam smiled wanly. Maybe the abdominal injury wasn't as bad as she'd feared; maybe Jack was only badly bruised.

"Since the tour is relatively brief and boring," she said, "maybe you'd be interested in some of our gourmet cuisine instead."

Jack looked at her quizzically. Food in Goa'uld detention cells was notoriously unappetizing. He'd assumed this would be more of the same.

"It's not bad," she said. "And you really need to eat. There's no telling how long we'll be here before they find us."

He'd trained her well, Jack thought. They had no idea where they were and odds were their friends didn't either. It was unlikely rescue was coming any time soon. Still pessimism never helped. They needed to stay alive until they found a way out. There was always Plan B. With that in mind, he followed Sam to the small table and ate the unexpected bounty provided for them.

"This is different," Jack said. He was biting into something that looked like a pear and tasted pleasing enough. "Sure he's not trying to poison us?"

"I ate when you were sleeping," she responded. "I'm still here, so I think we're safe for now."

"Right," he said. Jack knew this was the calm before the storm. He knew Ba'al in his infinite maliciousness, had chosen to torture him. If he was right, he was the only one who'd be whipped, burned, beaten and whatever else Ba'al was working up to this time out. He hoped he was right. He didn't want Sam to suffer that way.

But he didn't want her to go through what he feared was ahead either.

"Sam," he began. She'd turned away from him and was working on fashioning a weapon from the basket holding the fruit.

"Sam," he said again, a proud smile tugging at his lips. _Always thinking, his wife_. "Sam, listen to me." Jack reached out and grabbed her right arm, stilling her hands. She turned toward him. Her eyes held his.

"Remember all those things that kept us apart so long ago?"

"There were a few."

"I mean the military regulations, our ranks.. ." Jack said. "They're there for a reason. Part of it's to make situations like this a little easier. It's hard enough to watch your teammate suffer torture. But the person you love …"

Tears came to her eyes, just a little but enough to remind her of what was in store.

"It's harder," she said. "I know. We decided we'd risk it, remember?"

"Yeah, we did," Jack said. "But it doesn't change anything. Whatever happens, we can't give him what he wants."

Sam nodded, her eyes closing against the reality of his words. She looked at him silently. She knew, she'd always known, just as he had. Much as they'd each do anything to save the other, some things they could not do.

"Whatever happens, I wanted to say this out loud," Jack said.

"And one more thing …"

"Hmm?"

"I love you, more than anything."

Sam smiled. Jack reached out and drew her to him. Before either of them knew it they were in each other's arms.

OoOoOo

Less than an hour later, their captor returned.

"Good morning," Ba'al said pleasantly enough. "I hope you both had a good rest."

"As well as could be expected," Jack answered, restraining his impulse to be more annoying.

"Good," Ba'al replied. "Now I will require Colonel Carter's help."

"The naquadah bomb," Sam volunteered.

"You'll be relieved to know, I've figured that much out on my own," Ba'al said. "I am Goa'uld after all. We were experimenting with naquadah while the Tau'ri were inventing the wheel."

"Then you don't need me," Sam quipped.

Ba'al smiled. "Ah, but you know exactly what I need you for," he said.

"I don't think so," Sam replied flatly.

"It's a simple choice as I mentioned earlier," Ba'al countered. "You give me the codes and I give you your husband alive and well."

Sam had considered her options before Ba'al showed up. She could have given him codes she knew expired. It would have bought time. It would also have guaranteed an even angrier Goa'uld to torture Jack. Her choices weren't good.

"Those codes have expired," Sam said. "I can't help you."

Ba'al approached her calmly. Sam wished his bodyguards weren't with him. Landing a well placed round house blow right now would give her some much needed satisfaction. It would be counterproductive, but she'd enjoy it. What's more, if not deterred by the fully armed staff weapons aimed at them by the oversized Jaffa, she'd literally have to beat Jack to the punch.

"You _can_ help me," Ba'al said softly, standing almost nose to nose with Sam. "But _will _you? I have your communications devices; you can get the new codes."

"We're in enemy hands," Jack said. "No one is going to give us Gate codes."

Lotan/Ba'al walked calmly over to Jack and shook his head. "Don't patronize me, O'Neill. You know there's a way, she simply has to talk them into it."

Then returning his attention to Sam, "What will it be, my dear?"

"Go to hell," she said flatly.

Ba'al burst into peals of laughter. It was an odd, otherworldly sound, coming as it did from Lotan's placid, heretofore harmless form. The creature that stood before her now was anything but harmless. Sam looked at Jack across the room. They both knew what was coming next.

"The two of you have been together a long time," Ba'al observed, beginning to slowly pace the room. "Is it true you've only recently become lovers?

Both Jack and Sam held their tongues. Neither was about to dignify the question with any sort of answer.

"No answer? No difference," the Goa'uld suggested. "Twelve years is a long time to be together in whatever form that might have been. It will be difficult for you to witness what is to come, Colonel. How much your husband suffers depends entirely on the extent of your stubbornness. It is completely up to you."

Then turning to his Jaffa, he barked the order she knew was coming.

"Take him."

TBC

* * *

A/N: There you have it, a fairly long chapter for the story's very faithful readers. Thanks so much for your attention.

I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter's developments.

Please review.


	7. Chapter 7 Motivations

Chapter 7: Motivations

He knew what was coming.

Jack had been hung once more from the manacles, then left alone in a dank hole of a cell to await what would come next. This room was far more in keeping with Goa'uld interrogation techniques as far as Jack was concerned. Poorly lit, no decoration, smelling to high heaven, he felt right at home. He wondered if Ba'al would make an appearance for this go round.

More importantly, Jack's mind scrambled to come up with a plan of escape. Some way, anyway to get them out of here. No matter how hard he tried, virtual doors slammed in his face. They didn't know where they were, they didn't know what was outside their cell and the torture room (Jack was blindfolded each time he was taken out of the cell), they had no weapons and they were being watched. Sure, Sam was working on a couple jail house shivs, but the chances of success against a couple Jaffa with staff weapons weren't very high.

Then there was his physical condition. He was fairly sure it wouldn't be improving any after today's session. So he wouldn't be much help to Sam in any break out attempt. Worse yet, he'd likely hold her back. He couldn't let her die, whatever else happened, Jack couldn't let Sam die in this hellhole. He wouldn't surrender his wife to the monster that was Ba'al. How he'd protect her, well he hadn't figured that out ... yet. But he would protect her, with his life if necessary.

Part of protecting Sam involved figuring out what Ba'al had in mind, what he really wanted. Jack had been through enough torture routines to realize his tormentor was toying with both of them. There was more going on here than an attempt to destroy the SGC. Ba'al knew them well enough to realize neither of them would provide any helpful information in that regard. The ruthless Goa'uld could torture both of them forever; access to the Earth Gate would die with them.

Then the door opened. Sure enough, Ba'al was going to conduct this session himself.

With a single Jaffa stationed by the door, Ba'al approached his effectively restrained prisoner.

"Good morning, O'Neill," he began.

Jack stayed silent.

"Rude as ever," Ba'al replied. "So be it. I have more in store for you than conversation." With that, Ba'al walked directly behind him, grabbed the collar of his soiled BDU tunic and ripped it from his body. That done, he proceeded to slowly circle his prey, appraising his physical and mental condition.

"You are aging, O'Neill," he observed. "A few years back you were a prime physical specimen. Any Goa'uld would have been proud to claim you as a host." Ba'al sneered as he saw Jack wince at the thought.

"But now," he said, pausing for emphasis and coming to stand directly in front of Jack, "you are old. Your body is not what it once was. It is difficult to imagine what your lovely, young wife sees in you."

Jack kept his face impassive, the military mask firmly in place. He was the one who intended to bait Ba'al, not the other way around. It was the one advantage left to him.

"No response? Hmm ... so you know that I am right," Ba'al went on. "Such a shame that I must make you even more unattractive to the lovely Samantha."

"What do you want from me?" Jack asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"From you, O'Neill, nothing. At least not yet, not quite yet. Later will be something quite different," Ba'al insisted. "But not yet."

Jack stared at the Goa'uld. As he did, Ba'al reached into a cabinet attached to the rear wall of the chamber. From Jack's recent experience in this room, he knew the nondescript storage unit held a wide variety of torture implements. Ba'al selected a cat 'o-nine-tails.

"I must be more careful with you these days, my friend," he said, stroking and untangling the strands of the whip. "It is a challenge to my skills. I do not want to lose you prematurely, not before you have served your purpose." With that Ba'al landed the first crack of the whip around Jack's torso.

OoOoOo

Daniel had returned to Enkara. There he joined up with the team of marines who'd been dispatched to search the planet for any signs of Jack and Sam. It surprised no one that the missing members of SG1 were no longer on Enkara.

"We've been recalled," Colonel Reynolds informed Daniel after their initial conversation. "General Landry says there's nothing more we can do here until we get a lead on where they've been taken."

"We'll only 'get a lead' if we look," Daniel protested. "You could stay and help interview these people."

"With all due respect," Reynolds said as pleasantly as he could, "that's why you're here."

"Okay," Daniel said. Doing his best to control his rising indignation, Daniel politely asked the next question.

"There must be something else we can do," Daniel said.

"Dr. Jackson, we're doing all we can," Reynolds replied. "My team's joining Colonel Mitchell to meet up with the Tok'ra at their last known location. Since they were the last ones to have a lead on the Ba'als, at least one of them, we're hoping they'll have something for us.

'Yeah," Daniel said.

OoOoOo

He was losing track of time.

All he knew was he'd been at this awhile now. Fighting off the pain, sticking it in a far corner of his mind, he was determined to avoid the breaking point Ba'al would so enjoy. He was determined to maintain his sanity for Sam, if for no other reason.

Slowly Jack opened his eyes. Ba'al seemed to have taken a break from whipping him senseless. Unforturnately the sadistic creature was still with him, standing next to his Jaffa, only a few feet away from where Jack continued to hang and bleed. Ba'al appeared eminently satisfied with himself. Jack wanted to take that smirk off his face for good. He settled for the next best thing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jack rasped out through parched lips.

"Ah, you are awake again," Ba'al said as he returned his full attention to his favorite plaything. "And if you must know, yes, I am enjoying this," he admitted, "quite a bit, actually. It's the least I can do to thank you for the many ways you have tortured me."

"You've come down in the world lately, " Jack quipped. "Last time I was your guest you had that cool restraint thingie..." he said, pulling on the manacles for emphasis.

"Yes, the anti-gravitational field," Ba'al said. "I thought you'd remember that. Difficult times call for changes in strategy, surely you know that. Thanks to you and the Taur'i this is what I am reduced to, running for my life from the Tok'ra," he spat. "You have cost me much, O'Neill. I intend to return the favor."

OoOoOo

Five hours after he was taken from their cell, Jack O'Neill was carried in by a Jaffa and tossed on the bed, unconscious.

The second Jaffa tossed a small package at Sam.

"This is a gift from your God, Ba'al," he said. "Use it wisely."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Sorry, but things have to get worse before they get better. Stay tuned.

Your reviews are much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8 Healing

Chapter 8: Healing

This time he was hardly breathing.

Even from a few feet away, Sam could see the blood oozing from the lashes that curled around Jack's torso. His chest was barely moving. As soon as the Jaffa left, she ran to his side. His breathing was shallow, his color ominously grey. One side of his chest appeared to rise and fall more than the other._ One of the broken ribs finally punctured a lung, _she thought solemnly. If that had happened, there was nothing she was qualified to do. Any untrained attempts on her part to reexpand the lung would most likely kill him.

Leaning over Jack, running her hand over his bruised and battered face, Sam remembered what the Jaffa had said. She left Jack's side long enough to snatch the small package from the floor where it had landed. As she folded back the cover cloth, she was amazed by the contents. There in her hand was a Goa'uld healing device. She had no idea why Ba'al would provide her such a thing. At the moment that was beside the point. She would do all she could to make it work.

_Hold on Jack_, she thought. Standing over his wouded body, she slipped the ancient alien device on her right hand and brought all the resources of her considerable mind to bear on one task, healing the man she loved. At first, nothing happened. For a moment, her mind panicked. _Maybe I can't do this anymore_, she worried. _Maybe the whole idea of the device is one of Ba'al's sick jokes. No, calm down, _she told herself_. You can do this. Jolinar gave you this gift for times like now. Use it, Sam._

And so she did. On her second attempt, the hand device began to glow, a warm yellow light emanating from its smooth surface, shining down on Jack's injured body. Relieved that something was happening, she deftly directed the beam toward the right side of his chest, hoping that whatever healing properties this technology possessed would be capable of reinflating his lung. If it could knit his ribs as well, all the better.

Seconds passed; they turned to minutes almost without her awareness. Sam was able to open her eyes, watch Jack and maintain her concentration. The energy needed to maintain the function of the beam was slowly taking its toll on her as she lowered herself into the chair at Jack's bedside. A silent prayer wound its way through her heart and seemingly fed the energy of the beam. Finally, Jack's breathing changed ever so slightly. The gasping, desperate sound of failing lungs was replaced by quiet, ordinary respiratory effort. And Jack started to pink up. To her delight, he took a deep breath, cleared his throat and slowly opened his eyes.

"You can stop now," he said.

The beam from the healing device shut off suddenly as Sam reacted to the unexpected, but welcome sound of Jack's voice. She took her own very deep breath and allowed the tears she'd held inside to fall. As they did, she tenderly stroked his face, leaning over him so that her shoulder length hair fell on his pillow. With unexpected strength, Jack reached up with his right arm and pulled her down to him, holding her against his chest, whispering reassurance in her ear. There was no point in whispering assurances that all would be well, he couldn't promise that. So what he whispered were words of love, appreciation for what she meant to him and always would, no matter what happened.

OoOoOo

"We've lost contact with Lotan," the disembodied voice said in a tongue indecipherable to human ears, a language until recently, long dead.

"When did this happen?"

"Three cycles ago," came the anxious response. The caretaker immediately regretted his decision to delay sharing the information with his superior.

"Why was I not told?"

"I didn't want to bother you, Sir," the younger voice replied. "You are busy with so many things these days. You are much in demand."

"You are correct in your assumption," the older being replied. "But remember, our survival from here on will depend on our ability to live with others in our universe. Lotan is our first ambassador."

OoOoOo

Five hours after Jack was returned to the cell, the Jaffa came again. By then, Jack was up and around. Sam and the healing device had taken care of his major injuries, leaving him with little more that dull aches and pains bearing little resemblance to the actual damage that had been done. But this time, they'd come for Sam.

"No!" Jack protested. "He wants me. You're supposed to take me!"

"Stay where you are, Taur'i," the armed Jaffa shouted. As he spoke, his companion grabbed Sam's arm and began to pull her towards the open door.

This was it. The time. Jack was probably as close to full strength as he'd be any time soon. And in Sam's opposite hand was the sharpest of the two homemade shivs she'd managed to fashion over the past few days.

"Now!" Sam screamed, flailing at the Jaffa with her opposite hand and stabbing him in the abdomen with her makeshift weapon. On cue, Jack launched himself at the second Jaffa, nimbly dodging the staff weapon blast sent awry by the impact of his tackle. Furious, Jack pummelled the Jaffa's face and stabbed him repeatedly with the second shiv. Ba'al's guard was quiet. They were both silent. Plan B was underway.

"Let's go," Jack yelled, reaching for Sam. The door had been left open by the Jaffa. It was now or never. Unfortunately the answer was never.

"This is _so_ not good," Jack muttered, squeezing Sam's hand.

More Jaffa were at the door. Ba'al stood directly behind them.

"She will come with me."

OoOoOo

She was alone with him.

After days as Ba'al's prisoner, Sam had yet to be alone with her long time enemy. She couldn't say she was looking forward to the visit.

"Don't worry, my dear," Ba'al crooned. "I have no intention of injuring you. I simply thought it was adviseable for us to come to an understanding before this went much further."

She stared at him, trying to figure out what he wanted. And, of course, how she could get the upper hand.

"Alright," she said calmly. "I'm here and I'm listening."

Ba'al smiled. It was a friendly expression, framed as it was on Lotan's pleasant, unassuming face. If she let herself, just looking at the artificial Enkaran, Sam could forget exactly how desperate their situation was.

"Please, sit down, Colonel Carter," Ba'al began, his deep, sonorous voice reminding her it was not Lotan who spoke. Once Sam was dutifully seated, Ba'al sat down across from her. "I would like you to understand my position."

Sam waited. Doubtless, this would be interesting. Whether it could help them escape, that was another question altogether.

"Your position?" Sam prompted.

"In particular, my determination to have my revenge," he clarified. "You see, my dear, I will have it one way or another. How I experience it will be completely up to you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come now, that beautiful mind of yours can surely figure this out," Ba'al insisted. "I am leaving everything in your hands. You and the Taur'i think you have control, now I am giving it to you. It is up to you whether I wreck my vengeance on the SGC and therefore your entire world or on your husband."

"Either or, hmm?"

"Something like that," he said irritably. "In spite of what the Taur'i see as my arrogance, I am a broken man. My holdings, my worlds are no longer mine to control. Between the Replicators, the Jaffa rebellion and the Taur'i, I have been reduced to this." Dramatically Ba'al gestured to his current physical body. "Did you know that I made over fifty copies of myself? It was exhilerating, an incredible achievement actually. You see I cloned both the human body of the host and the symbiote. Imagine my delight. But then, you and the hated Tok'ra hunted them down. You even believed you had cornered and captured **me. **Such foolish pride to think you could outsmart a being infinitely more powerful than yourselves.

"The Jaffa who remain with me are few, but they are loyal to death. They have been promised the ultimate reward for their loyalty. Blending with the symbiotes they carry once they are mature ..."

"That's impossible ..."

"Perhaps, perhaps not ..."

Sam shook her head dismissively.

"I can do anything," he said. "You forget, I am a god."

"Right."

"Jeer all you want," Ba'al said. "I have already done the impossible and more."

"Blending with Lotan?"

"Yes, a feat of considerable engineering, taking full advantage of the creature's biological elements to sustain myself," Ba'al said. "A fine, inspired choice, at least at the time."

"What happened to your original host?" Sam asked.

"I believe you refer to Sayid, the one you met on so many occasions. Actually he was the third host I've had over my 1500 year lifespan. He was with me for 500 of those years. I picked him from several worthy candidates on Earth, shortly after a major war on your homeworld. He was a warrior and a survivor, yet unfortunately among the vanquished. I offered him a new start, a chance to rule millions.'

Sam closed her eyes for a moment, doing her best to suppress a comment which would needlessly aggravate the narcissistic creature before her. He truly believed he'd given this poor man a new lease on life.

"Alas, I was forced to leave Sayid in order to hide from my persecutors," Ba'al said, his now balding head bowed almost sadly. "He'd outlived his usefulness. In my natural state, my Jaffa were able to hide me until another suitable host was found, one who would never be suspected."

"Lotan," Sam said.

"Yes, someone living on one of my favorite worlds, a place no one would expect until I was ready to make myself known," he said. "But we digress. My point is, I have no ambitions for myself in this form. It is quite possible my existence is coming to an end, but I shall leave this plane in a way that I chose. And one way or the other I will take my enemies with me."

He was talking in riddles; Sam struggled to make sense of what he truly wanted.

"What if I get you the codes?" Sam asked.

Ba'al smiled. This time even on Lotan's placid face, the expression chilled Sam's heart. It was a game, all of this was a game.

"We'll see," he answered. "First, you will be my audience for General O'Neill's next trial. I'm sure it will spark your interest. If you are good, I'll even let you play."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I have a poll on my profile sight, asking readers to weigh in on what they'd like to see in terms of a rescue for our heroes. Hope you check it out, could be fun. I'll give your requests serious consideration in the conclusion of the story.

Thanks so much for reading!!


	9. Chapter 9 agony

Chapter 9: Agony

_I didn't leave her because I'd rather die myself than lose Carter._

He'd uttered those words over eight years ago. Standing behind a pane of clear glass with Jack forcibly restrained in the next room, the memory of the Zatarc testing returned in startling clarity. It too had been torture. Torture for the both of them to acknowledge feelings they'd struggled to keep hidden from everyone, including themselves. Now those feelings were torturing them in a whole different way. Or maybe not so different after all.

Ba'al had decided to up the ante as it were, giving Sam a front row seat to observe Jack's misery and humiliation. She stood behind the tempered glass, guarded by a single Jaffa armed only with a zat. She stood as she'd stood the day of the Zatarc testing, only this time she couldn't think of a way to save the love of her life.

Before he began, Ba'al looked directly at her from the adjoining room and smiled. He wanted Sam to appreciate the skill and cunning he'd use to place each wound exactly right, causing optimal pain and suffering, yet avoiding fatal injury. He looked delighted with himself, proud of his ability to demonstrate mastery of his victim and determined to prolong the gruesome process. He would not let Jack go easily. What's more, the ruthless Goa'uld offered one last verbal diatribe, reminding Sam that this was all in her control. A sincere agreement to help him take action against the SGC was all that was needed to end this.

Jack had reacted strongly to that final manipulation, as only Jack could.

"Carter," he'd called out in his sternest voice. A warning, an order, she knew his intent. No more was needed. It never was. Even that hadn't been necessary. She couldn't save him, she knew it; he knew it. No matter what she did or didn't do, Ba'al was enjoying this far too much to give it up now.

And so it began. He used knives this time. Ba'al insisted Sam had chosen the instrument of torture by her recent escape attempt and the crude weapons she'd fashioned. He reminded both his captives of his own proficiency with knives. The reminder caused Jack to cringe involuntarily, recalling his original experience with Ba'al and his deadly playthings.

OoOoOo

"Have you re-established communications yet?"

The young technician looked up from his virtual control panel, long enough to notice the displeased visage of his superior.

"I have been unable to do so, Sir," he reported. "There is interference."

"What kind of interference?"

"Unknown, however it appears to be biological in nature."

"Biological, how can that be?"

"It appears Lotan has been infested with a parasitic organism known to infect humanoids of this galaxy."

The technician's superior began to circumnavigate the small enclosure where they worked. He didn't pace, so much as he leapt from space to space, his long exterior appendage, flapping wildly behind him.

"That is unacceptable," the Director said. "We must take steps to disable the infecting organism."

"But how do we do that?" the highly skilled young technician asked. "There is no mechanism built into Lotan's neural net that could effectively severe the biological connection that has been established."

"Then you will have to create one," his superior said without hesitation. "Let me know when the work is done."

OoOoOo

It was excruciating for both of them.

They could see each other. Sam watched as Ba'al strutted and preened for her in front of Jack. All the while, Jack waited, hanging from those damned manacles, knowing the abuse that awaited him and seeing Sam's face each time he looked up.

If only Ba'al had kept his mouth shut, perhaps it would have been less emotionally grueling. But of course, the torturer had to have his say, gloat over the pain he was inflicting.

"Observe, my dear," he said as he held the knife in its ready position. "Mine is a precise art form. The goal is to inflict a delicious degree of agony without causing a fatal wound which would prematurely end my little game. I'm sure you would agree it is a fine line. It is one I walk expertly."

And with that chilling preamble, Ba'al proceeded to take aim at Jack. With surgical precision, he let the knives fly, one at a time, taking long moments to savor the effect of each strike. Some punctures yielded minimal effect. Others, the knife point laced with Ba'al's corrosive acid, caused exquisite pain without serious organ damage. Sam flinched along with Jack with each impact. Jack tried his best to suppress his cries of pain, but by the end of the session he was losing the battle. Each time he'd reflexively look for Sam, as if locking eyes with her might give him strength. Each time, he saw his own pain reflected in the eyes of the woman he loved.

Before long, she was the one in tears, screaming for it to stop.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all of you who participated in the poll. There's still time, just check out my profile page. I'll do my best to accommodate majority wishes in a way faithful to the story.

Don't forget to review!! I'll be honest, when I don't see the reviews I get more insecure than usual. Constructive criticism is appreciated. I know it takes time to do this, (especially when I throw a poll in too!) but it means a lot to this particular writer. Thanks.


	10. Chapter 10 Rebirth

Chapter 10: Rebirth

In the six years since P5S-381 had been successfully terraformed, the Gadmeer civilization had been reborn on the planet.

A total of five thousand distinct life forms had been reconstituted from their basic, essentially freeze dried constituents and were thriving in the sulfur based atmosphere now surrounding the planet. With a bluish haze bathing their world and a landscape devoid of the greenery humans had come to expect, the Gadmeer were perfectly happy with their new home and ready to try again.

In the Golden Age of their civilization these tall, lithesome amphibious creatures had successfully mastered the initially hostile environment of their homeworld. They'd gone on to create an enviable way of life that served them well for millennia. In that time long ago they were isolationists, keeping their own counsel, bothering no one, helping no one. Then the others came. Predators, intent on taking what was not theirs, this second warlike race saw the Gadmeer as easy prey. Disconnected from their neighbors by their own choice, there was no one to come to their aid. Self proclaimed pacifists, they'd devoted little effort to defensive or offensive technology. The invaders had easily overwhelmed what few defenses they had.

While ill prepared for war, the Gadmeer had achieved great scientific advancements in other areas, among them artificial intelligence, genetics and space travel. When it came to escaping their dying world, the world that was stolen from them by more aggressive, ambitious invaders, these advances stood them in good stead. Able to preserve the essence of their civilization, they'd found P5S-381, a place to be reborn. Once awakened from their long sleep, their leaders decided to do things differently. They would be involved with their neighbors, help where they were needed and put adequate defensive weapons in place to protect their new world. They resolved to learn from their mistakes. After all, theirs was a long lived civilization. They had every intention of continuing and once again making their mark in the universe.

Lotan had been the beginning of their new resolve. Allowing him to travel with the Enkarans was a calculated decision. It marked the beginning of Gadmeer diplomacy and an attempt to understand and appreciate alien cultures. The Gadmeer AI turned Enkaran proved to be an excellent ambassador and intermediary. Carrying Gadmeer knowledge and wisdom, he'd quickly warmed to his biological endowments; his soul of sorts became Enkaran. Instinctively he understood both races and helped the Gadmeer gain an appreciation of humanoid species. With the knowledge of the Enkaran ruling council, he continued to serve as an intermediary between the two very diverse species, sharing information about each with the other. Soon, Enkarans began to think of the Gadmeer as a friendly race, not the one who'd almost annihilated them not so many years ago.

Word of Lotan's compromise had hit hard. At first, Gadmeer central command took it as yet another sign of a hostile galaxy, reason to turn in on themselves once again and batten down the hatches. It was tempting, it felt safe, but it was the one thing they'd promised not to do this time around. And so they resolved to find out what happened and restore Lotan if they could.

At the beginning their efforts were thwarted by a poor understanding of the indigenous populations of their adopted galaxy. And despite their linguistic abilities they were hard pressed to comprehend the cultural overlays of much that they heard.

Then they received an unexpected communication from Enkara. At first, the Gadmeer suspected they'd been mistaken about Lotan's fate; perhaps it was only their sensors that were damaged. That faint hope was quickly extinguished when they realized Lotan was not the one making contact.

It was the humans. Determined to be of help to Daniel Jackson in his search, Hedrezar had remembered the complicated communications device Lotan often used to check in with his strange friends, the Gadmeer. Though Hedrezar had no idea how to make it work, Daniel, with the help of an SGC technician dispatched for that purpose, had managed to boot it up and make an adequate attempt at the language. His attempt was adequate enough to send an SOS.

OoOoOo

Watching Ba'al brutally assault Jack that first day was an excruciating experience. She'd lost control; after an hour of watching helplessly while her husband was tortured, Sam had screamed for it to stop. Strangely enough it had.

Sure enough Ba'al had made his way to her enclosure, asking if she was ready to accede to his demands for the SGC codes. Sam told him in no uncertain terms that would never happen, fearing all the while her refusal would condemn Jack to even worse treatment. But nothing happened. Apparently Ba'al had tired of the game, at least for that day.

The last thing she'd meant to do was show weakness. Ba'al had the upper hand as it was. And Jack, well, right now she was Jack's best hope of survival. She had to be strong for him, she owed him that much. She'd fallen apart, but just for a moment. She'd allowed herself to react as Mrs. Jack O'Neill, not Colonel Samantha Carter. As natural as that reaction was, she resolved it would not happen again, at least not where anyone else could see. There was too much at stake. A frightened, tearful wife wouldn't be able to save Jack. Samantha would have to step back, while the military officer took command. Unfortunately that same officer had long ago lost all objectivity when it came to the man who was suffering.

Once they'd been returned to their cell after that session, Sam pulled herself together, tending Jack's wounds, stopping the visible bleeding and doing her best to comfort him. Then, once he was asleep, she'd let the tears come, crying in earnest. The emotions had to come out somewhere and then she'd have to make them work for her. If she didn't find a way out of this, he was going to die. Like it, or not, she was frightened. The great Samantha Carter, the woman who'd blown up a sun and saved galaxies, was human.

Now a week later, Jack continued to take the brunt of Ba'al's displeasure. Guards would come for him at different times of the day and night, sometimes dragging Sam along to observe, sometimes not. After some of the beatings, Sam was allowed to use the healing device, but not always. It had been two days since Sam was allowed access to the device. She'd tried hiding it last time, against the likelihood of losing it again, but the Jaffa had ransacked the small cell until they'd found it. She hadn't seen it since.

Though Ba'al kept insisting Sam was in control of the situation, she felt helpless in most every way that mattered. At least she'd regained control of her emotions since that first day in the torture chamber. There'd been no more screaming in spite of the horrors she was forced to witness. She'd turned away or closed her eyes when she could take no more, but she'd stayed silent. And she'd seen approval mirrored in Jack's weary, pain-filled eyes.

Surely by now Ba'al knew neither of them would provide any useful intelligence. As far as she could tell, his only motivation for keeping them alive was to satisfy his sadistic desires for revenge.

Jack was growing weaker each day. Unable to eat more than an occasional mouthful, even getting liquids into him was a challenge some days. Drifting mercifully in and out of consciousness, when lucid, he was far more concerned with her well being than his own. For the past two days he'd spent his precious energy talking about Plan B, the unthinkable, where she'd escape, leaving him behind to maximize her chances. Sam tried to make him understand that would never happen. She promised to find another way. He'd smiled weakly and squeezed her hand tighter. And she'd died a little more inside, wondering what she could possibly do to fulfill that promise.

OoOoOo

Daniel Jackson was a gifted linguist. Anyone who'd worked with him over the past twenty years or so could tell you that. Yet even Daniel doubted his ability to decipher the Gadmeer language. Its incomparable text and the complete lack of syntax gave a whole new meaning to the term foreign language. He had no idea if his SOS would be understood in any meaningful way.

He could hardly believe his ears when he received a response to his crudely constructed cry for help. And it came in English.

They'd remembered him. And they wanted _his_ help.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews and the responses to the poll.


	11. Chapter 11 From Bad to Worse

Chapter 11: From Bad to Worse

_Thank God he's back_, Sam thought.

They'd been in Ba'al's prison nearly three weeks. The Jaffa came for Jack nearly every day, leaving him little time for recovery before the next beating. More often than not, when Jack was returned to her he was unconscious. Today was a case in point. After more than an hour in Ba'al's torture chamber, Jack was returned to the cell, bleeding, unconscious, but alive.

Sadly, Sam gathered supplies and started to do what she could to clean his wounds and ease the pain. On a body that was no stranger to scars, fresh burns, lacerations, and puncture marks were now layered upon each other, grimly marking the progress of Ba'al deadly game. Taking stock of today's damage, Sam closed her eyes, struggling to pull herself together. Her pathetically inadequate first aid measures had become so familiar the past few days; Sam wondered how long she could keep it up and more importantly, how long Jack could survive the repeated traumas to his body. The food, supplies and bandages Ba'al provided were just enough to prolong the agony. The Goa'uld was, after all, highly skilled in the art of torture and manipulation. What's more, he enjoyed it.

"I'm here, Jack," Sam whispered. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I wish I could do more. I'm so sorry."

She hoped he could hear her even if he was unable to respond. He needed so much more than the makeshift care she was able to provide. This man who'd saved her, saved his world so many times, this man she loved desperately, deserved so much more. She had to get him out of here, before it was too late. With a heavy heart, she did what she could.

Once her tender ministrations were complete, Sam sat by his side. As she did each time he was returned, she held his hand, stroked his forehead, whispered softly. Gone was the initial outrage, anger and shock at the way Ba'al beat and abused the one she loved. In its place, over the past few days, depression and resignation had begun to fester. By force of will, she tried to beat them back. And she watched, waited and prayed for Jack to wake up from this latest assault.

Instead her worst fears came to pass. He stopped breathing. At first Sam thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the easy rise and fall of his chest had stopped. As she leaned in over him, trying in vain to reassure herself all was well, Sam had to acknowledge the evidence of her senses. Jack was breathless and frighteningly still, moments away from death. For a fleeting moment, panic descended on her and a strangled cry escaped unbidden from her lips. Fortunately,

Sam's training kicked in and she sprang into action. She knew what to do and one step after another she did it, skillfully breathing air into his dying lungs.

To the good, Jack never lost his pulse and Sam was able to revive him with only a few cycles of rescue breathing. But that was beside the point. He could have died, would have died if she hadn't been right there, watching. His body was shutting down. If they were home, he'd be in intensive care, not lying in a small bed, God knows where, with no medical paraphernalia in sight. He was that much closer, closer to the end. And no matter how that incredible brain of hers scrambled, there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing but comfort him.

And so, once she was satisfied he was breathing on his own again, Sam climbed into the bed with him, gently pulling him to her, intending to spend the rest of the night watching the rise and fall of his chest. It was all she could do. For now, it had to be enough.

OoOoOo

They had a universal translator. For the umpteenth time, Daniel was grateful that advanced civilizations always seemed to have the ability to communicate with others. He remembered how quickly Lotan had mastered their language, commenting on how much simpler it was than the Gadmeer lexicon. That was a good thing.

In response to Daniel's crudely constructed SOS, the Gadmeer sent a detailed statement of what they were willing to do to help find his missing friends. Just like that. He didn't have to convince them. Moreover, they managed to convey their own concern over the loss of contact with Lotan. Better yet, they'd been able to track him. They knew where he'd gone and how to get there.

In short, they were willing to help. _More than we can usually say for the Tok'ra_, Daniel thought. And with that vote of confidence he'd called Teal'c. Sure enough, the Jaffa had only recently made contact with the Tok'ra, who as usual were less than forthcoming with help. The fact was they had no idea where Ba'al might be and even less desire to admit he was still alive. But the Gadmeer did and a representative was due to arrive within the day.

OoOoOo

Sam was so tired. Stressed, worried, frustrated, after nearly an hour of lying awake watching Jack, Sam started to drift off to sleep. In that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness she was happily aware of the warmth of Jack's body in her arms. Safe, secure, at least for the moment, Sam savored the peace of being with her husband. It was only for a fleeting respite, a moment where she could protect him, exercise a modicum of control, relish the escape that sleep offered. How she wished it were possible to give him her strength, to change places with him. Maybe in her dreams ….

_I have to stay awake_, Sam tried to tell herself. _I need to be sure he's okay. Get up Sam, much as you want to stay here like this, pretend the rest of this isn't happening, get up, stay awake..._

Suddenly, she felt a hand holding hers.

She squeezed back absent mindedly. Then she heard a small but familiar voice calling her name. And she realized Jack had regained consciousness.

"Jack …" she breathed, starting to pull herself up so she could see his face.

"Thanks,' he said softly, looking back at her.

"For what?" Sam asked, her sadness temporarily lifted.

"For kissing me back to life," he said with the slightest hint of his old smirk.

Sam laughed through her tears. Leave it to Jack to make light of mouth-to-mouth rescuscitation. How he even remembered what happened, she had no idea.

"You remember?"

"I remember everything," he said. "I'm not a dumb as I look."

They looked at each other silently. For a second Sam dared to hope he'd be alright after all, that they could still get away.

"Remember the moon-base?" Jack asked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

She smiled.

"Of course I remember," she answered.

"Get us back there," he said. As Jack spoke, his eyes locked with hers. No more words were necessary, the shared memories spoke for themselves. Still, he waited for Sam's response, knowing it would make all the difference.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"I don't see how," she said, her voice clogged with tears. Reluctantly, Sam realized she wasn't all that different from the very green, emotional captain who'd sat by her dying CO in the frozen wasteland of Antarctica. Only now her fear of losing Jack was more intense than ever. Now he was her husband and the intimacy of their connection made letting him down so much harder.

"You _can_ do it, _Colonel_," he said. Despite his use of her rank, Jack's voice was soft and gentle, filled with concern for her. This time he avoided talking about any Plan B that would involve leaving him behind.

He knew he was dying. But he knew Sam well enough to realize she'd give up if he did. If their roles were reversed he knew he would. He'd meant it years ago when he said he'd rather die than lose her. And it was more true now than then. He could only assume she felt the same way.

"You know what 's happening here, Carter." It was a statement of fact, not a question. "Ba'al's killing me physically and breaking you emotionally. If we let him do it he wins, it's over. Is that what you want? You want it to end this way?"

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the intensity of his gaze. _Of course I don't_, she thought.

"I can't hear you," Jack whispered, as loudly as he could.

"No, it's not what I want," she said.

"Help me sit up."

"You need to rest, you're too weak," she protested.

"Help me," he repeated. It was an order, not a request.

Sam did as he said.

"Look at me …"

And she did, doing her best to keep her tears in check. Jack's face was pale, drawn, a fresh laceration running the length of his left cheek

"Sam if you give up, we don't have a chance," he said firmly.

Tenderly, she reached up to stroke his face. He leaned into her hand, enjoyed the contact, wondering if it might be their last. He hoped not, but Jack O'Neill wasn't one to sugar coat reality. Speaking was difficult. He was in pain. There was no denying the trouble they were in, or the fact he was near death. Still, he'd do whatever was necessary to save Sam.

"I'm not giving up," Sam protested.

"So how are we getting out of here?" Jack pressed, careful to include himself in the equation.

To his dismay, her face was blank, devoid of any reaction. He wondered if she'd already been pushed past the breaking point.

"What do we need?" He persisted. "Think Sam."

"Weapons," she said. "Sorry we're fresh out. My last attempt didn't work so well."

"So…," he prompted.

"Jack, I've searched this place. We had the knives such as they were, you know how well those worked," she said dismissively. "There's nothing else in this room to work with."

"Then we need to get you out of this room," he stated matter-of-factly.

Sam shook her head.

"Even if we had weapons, you aren't strong enough to make it out of here," she said. "And I'm not leaving you."

"You'll find a way," he said. And in his heart, he knew she would. She always did.

OoOoOo

Later that day, Ba'al came to the door of their cell, accompanied by his guard. Accustomed to the routine, Jack began to shift in the bed, preparing himself for what was to come. But Sam had other ideas.

"Take me, damn you!" Sam said, positioning herself between the Jaffa and Jack. "If you have to torture someone, it's my turn, take me!"

TBC

* * *

A/N: I've received very helpful constructive criticism from my reviewers. I've tried to add some more emotional depth to this chapter, but have to admit I'm struggling with it. However, rest assured, I know where I'm going with the story and I'm hoping to provide a satisfying conclusion soon. (Updates might be a little slower as real life is letting loose with complications, but the chapters are on their way.) I'll do the best I can and greatly appreciate your feedback, suggestions and yes, reviews!


	12. Chapter 12 Small Differences

Chapter 12: Small Differences

Funny, he could have sworn it didn't hurt so much tonight. His back, his stomach, his head, all the agony he'd felt in every square inch of his body the past few days faded into the background tonight. Ba'al had taken Sam. That was all that mattered now.

_She demanded to be taken in my place and that son of a bitch did it,_ he thought. _And I couldn't do a damn thing to stop him. I tried, but I couldn't stop him. Hell, I could barely talk, let along get out of this damned bed. If he hurts her… _

Afraid for her, ashamed of his own weakness, Jack started to berate himself_._ It was that old voice of self doubt that spoke loudly in his head.

_Of course he's going to hurt her …what are you going to do about it …look at yourself, you're a useless old man … you didn't protect her…you couldn't protect her… what's happening to her? What are you going to do about it?_

Jack's self recrimination was worse than anything Ba'al had done to him the past few weeks. A Major General in the US Air Force, a former black ops soldier, Jack O'Neill was no stranger to torture, physical or emotional. He'd learned to persevere in the face of the cruelest treatment and the most squalid conditions an enemy could throw at him. In some ways Sam was equally prepared. But she was younger, hadn't survived the weeks of captivity he had in the past and what's more, she loved him. Their love made her vulnerable. _Hell, it makes me vulnerable_, he thought.

In the present situation, Jack's love for Sam triggered his worst misery _and_ his strongest motivation to survive. And the husband in him rightly assumed it was the same for her_. Our greatest blessing and our greatest curse, it's the story of our lives._

_Ba'al's been hurting Sam right along with me this whole time, _Jack reflected_. It's just a different kind of torture; it's exactly what he's doing to me right now. If our positions were reversed_, _if Sam was the one beaten everyday_, _I'd have lost it long ago. If I was helpless to stop her pain, I'd go crazy…just like I am now._

_If we're going to survive this, we have to do it together. I have to do something._

He wanted to beat Ba'al senseless for what he was doing to both of them, but mostly for what he was doing to Sam. Jack's weakened physical state made it impossible, but it didn't stop him from thinking it, even plotting how he'd do it. He'd kill him slowly, inflicting maximum pain and terror, the way Ba'al was killing them now.

But instead of wreaking vengeance on his tormentor, Jack was flat on a bed, in the middle of a gilded cell. It was absurd. More than absurd, it was intolerable. He had to do something, _anything_ to prove to himself he wasn't helpless.

_I'm not gonna lie here in this damned bed any longer, _he resolved_._

Using what strength remained in his upper arms, Jack forced himself into a sitting position. The effort took its toll on his severely damaged body; the pain was excruciating. Weakened muscles stretched and pulled beyond what they should have; newly healed tissues tore with the stress of unwanted exertion. It hurt. And he rejoiced in the agony. The pain told him he was still alive. And where there was life, there was hope, hope he could help Sam.

Sitting breathlessly on the side of the small bed, Jack remembered the cameras. _That creature_ was watching him. At least he hoped he was; he hoped Ba'al was watching and gloating over his agony. It would keep the Goa'uld's attention off Sam. With that thought in mind, Jack gave his captor something to watch.

By sheer force of will, Jack insisted his legs support him as he pushed himself off the bed and struggled to his feet. And they did, at least momentarily. But the success was short lived. In mere seconds, his legs gave out beneath him and Jack collapsed, ignominiously falling on the floor next to the bed. Coldly, he laughed as he considered his predicament. The chair was still over three feet away. And his wounds were bleeding again.

_It doesn't matter_, he thought, reactivating the old hardened soldier persona, the man who could survive anything for the sake of his fellow soldiers. With that thought in mind, determined to do _something_, he made his way to the chair. He crawled on his hands and knees, but he got there, all three feet of the way. When he did, he pulled himself up and fell onto the hard surface of the metal chair, breathing heavily from the exertion.

_Who the hell am I kidding?_ He thought. _Can't give up_, he answered himself. _For Sam, can't give up. She'll think of something and I'll help her, whatever it takes. Just come back, Sam. Come back in one piece._

And with that thought, he mercifully lost consciousness.

OoOoOo

Sam wasn't completely surprised Ba'al agreed to take her instead of Jack. She suspected he'd planned to do that all along. Beyond that, she didn't know what would happen next.

It didn't take long to realize she wasn't being led to the torture chamber. And she hadn't been blindfolded the way she and Jack had been on their prior forays from the cell. In less than three or four minutes they reached their destination. She and Ba'al entered a room that could pass for a quintescential Goa'uld throne room, an opulent chamber, decked out with the gaudy furnishings she'd come to expect from Ba'al and his cohorts. It was a far cry from the starkness of their sparsely furnished prison cell.

"Leave us," Ba'al/Lotan ordered the guards.

It seemed he wanted to talk. Well that was easy. She'd listened to his rant before. It was more than a week ago now, before the first time she'd been forced to watch Jack's beating. _If nothing else_, she thought, _that little talk gave me some information. Maybe this one will too. _

Once the door was closed, Sam turned toward Ba'al. She took the lead. _What do I have to lose?_

"You can't keep us here indefinitely you know," she said, sporting a bravado she didn't feel. "They're looking for us."

Ba'al smiled, one of those self satisfied grins that begged to be wiped off his face. Given the chance, Sam would be more than glad to do exactly that.

"Who do you think is coming for you?" Ba'al jeered in response to Sam's statement. "Perhaps your friends, the Taur'i? Or the Tok'ra?" He paused for effect, and then added, "Perhaps you are expecting the dead Asgard?" Ba'al sneered and snorted at the last possibility, congratulating himself on his own grim humor. "I think not my dear."

With that, Ba'al approached Sam. He stood directly in front of her, invading her personal space, doing his best to convey his own mastery of the situation.

"There are worse things than being here with me, Samantha," he said, his first use of her given name disconcerting to say the least. "And much as you'd like to pretend otherwise, you know I can keep you here as long as I see fit. I intend to keep you for some time, give you the chance to get to know me, before anything changes in our relationship. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Where are my manners? You must be hungry and thirsty."

He stepped back and directed Sam's attention towards a table set back from the door. It was spread with a lavish meal and sported two place settings. The intent was obvious.

"Join me, Samantha," he commanded. "It's been prepared especially for us."

_Strange_ couldn't begin to describe the situation as far as Sam was concerned. She didn't like where this was going, not one iota. Still, she might be able to manipulate the situation to her advantage, to their advantage.

_Play along_, she told herself. _Find out what he really wants and use it against him._

"Please, sit," Ba'al reiterated politely. Reluctantly, resolved to make this work for her, Sam did as he requested.

Once they were both seated, Ba'al spoke.

"Your misery during all of this has been most unfortunate," he said. "I'd hoped to make you more comfortable. Please accept my apologies."

Sam kept silence. _He must be kidding_, she thought. _But I'll play, I can do this._

"Alright," she said aloud, her voice far from sincere, even to her own ears.

"Good enough," Ba'al replied, knowing it was the best he could ask for.

"I want you to know how much I admire your abilities, Colonel," he continued, unexpectedly shifting the course of the exchange.

"You do," Sam stated flatly.

"Of course," he said. "I remember the day you and I defeated the Replicators on Dakara. You must recall how well we worked together."

_Oh yeah_, she thought. _You were a real team player_.

"I recall you were of some help that day," she said aloud.

"You _do_ remember," he said indulgently, as if she'd paid him a compliment. "I so hope we can work together again."

"I don't see that happening given our current situation," Sam retorted as pleasantly as she could.

"What might I do to make you feel differently?"

"Oh I don't know," she said. "Let us go? That would be a good start." _Okay, now I'm channeling Jack_ she thought.

Ba'al laughed. It was a disturbing otherworldly sound, especially coming from Lotan's mouth.

"You are much like O'Neill," he said. "I admire you tenacity, even your irreverence. It shows spirit. But I'm afraid I have no intention of letting you go."

"The healing device then," she countered. "Let me have it one more time."

"Ah, your husband again," he said. "I'm afraid O'Neill is no longer part of my plan, at least not in the way you think."

"So you have no intention of doing anything differently?"

"Not so," he said. "Perhaps tonight, for you, I won't beat him."

That was something.

Sam closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forged ahead.

"But you're going to kill him, aren't you?"

"Now, now, my dear," he soothed falsely, "have you learned nothing these past few weeks? His fate is completely in your hands. It's all up to you."

_What is he talking about? What does he really want?_

"It's not about the codes, is it?"

"No, sadly not," Ba'al replied. "Despite my vaunted arrogance, I no longer have the power or the wherewithal to wreck my vengeance on so grand a scale."

"Then what is it? What do you want?"

"All in good time my dear," he answered, "all in good time."

OoOoOo

When Sam returned that night, Jack was relieved to say the least. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he was rewarded by the sight of his wife, apparently unharmed. She walked in under her own steam, two guards waiting at the door and leaving once she was inside. Her face paled as she took in the sight of her badly beaten husband, awkwardly wedged into one of the room's small chairs. With a smooth motion, she pulled the second chair up close to his and sat down facing him.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Sam asked, worry clear in her voice.

"Waiting for you," he answered.

Right then, Jack released the painful breath he'd been holding, kissed her gently and sat quietly with his forehead leaning against hers.

Unexpectedly, Sam pulled away, reaching her hand up to touch his forehead. That slight contact confirmed what she feared.

"You're burning up," she observed.

"It's the effect you have on me," he quipped, smiling wanly.

She shook her head. Knowing there was nothing she could do to help him, she kept silent.

"Why did you do it?" Jack asked.

Sam held his gaze without speaking. She knew what he was asking. _Why did I do it, offer myself in your place? Because I love you, why do you think?_ But then he already knew that.

"You told me not to give up." Sam answered.

He looked at her doubtfully.

"It's the chance we've been waiting for," she clarified.

"How do you figure?"

"I didn't think he'd hurt me, not after all this time," she said. "I was right. He never touched me. Ba'al believes he can talk me around to his way of seeing things," Sam supplied. "I know it's crazy, but he thinks I understand him, like him even. It's like he's courting me, Jack. I can play that. If I do it right I can get us out of here"

To say he looked at her askance was an understatement.

"He's playing with us," Jack said, "and you're playing with fire."

"And our choice is?"

"Right," he said sarcastically. There wasn't much of a choice, they both knew it. After more than three weeks of captivity that much was abundantly clear.

"It gives me a chance to come up with alternatives," Sam said. "I've already got an idea of our surroundings. He didn't blindfold me; I think I can find our way out of here if we get the chance. And with any luck I can get my hands on a weapon."

"So now he's gonna give you a pass to the weapons arsenal?"

She smirked.

"Maybe," she said, "but more likely he'll leave me alone in his quarters long enough to do some snooping. I happen to know he's got a healing device in there."

"And what, we're gonna heal them into submission?"

"Glad to see your sense of humor's intact."

Jack shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the pain the gesture caused him. It was nothing compared to the pain of imagining Sam alone with Ba'al night after night.

"Think about it," she said. "What's the difference between the healing device and the hand device?"

He looked at her blankly.

"They look alike," he said after a minute. "What's the difference?"

She was thinking; he could see the wheels turning.

"The alignment of the crystals and the intent, the power of the crystals responds to the intent of the user," she said thoughtfully. "That has to be it, the components themselves are the same. In that case, I could rearrange them."

"If you had the healing device in the first place, maybe," he said doubtfully.

Sam nodded. "Then I'll have to find one, won't I," she said.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, on Enkara, Daniel's frustration mounted. Teal'c had arrived a few hours ago and together they waited for the help that was promised. Things were about to get interesting.

"Daniel!"

"What, what is it?"

"The Gadmeer, they are here," Jaylin called. The leader of the Enkaran Council pointed upward, directing Daniel to the familiar sight of a huge spacecraft, similar to the one they'd tried to derail 6 years ago. Help had arrived; with any luck, these aliens would know where to find his friends. If past experience were a sign of things to come, he suspected it wouldn't be a moment too soon.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Sorry for how long it's taking between updates. Between real life and some of the difficulties I'm having with the story, its taking longer than expected. Please hang in there. And thank you so much for your reviews. Your interest is much appreciated.


	13. Chapter 13 An Offer of Help

"_The Gadmeer, they are here," Jaylin called. The leader of the Enkaran Council pointed upward, directing Daniel to the familiar sight of a huge spacecraft, similar to the one they'd tried to derail 6 years ago. Help had arrived; with any luck, these aliens would know where to find his friends. If past experience were a sign of things to come, he suspected it wouldn't be a moment too soon._

Chapter 13: An Offer of Help

At Jaylin's announcement, Daniel, Teal'c and the Enkarans with them left the shelter and made their way to the central square. Sure enough, the Gadmeer ship hovered over their heads. Before Daniel knew what was happening, a transport beam descended directly in front of him. When its blinding light faded, an attractive female figure stood in its place. Sporting a statuesque frame with lustrous auburn hair falling past her shoulders, the woman was dressed simply enough, in a plain white robe. Her presentation reminded Daniel of his first meeting with Lotan. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

The new arrival looked around for a moment before spotting Daniel. Then she approached him with an air of confidence, as if she'd known him all her life.

"Was it you who summoned me?" she asked. Her tone was pleasant enough. Though she'd never met any of the small group assembled before her, she seemed to instinctively know who to address. For a moment everyone, especially the comparatively primitive Enkarans, regarded the new arrival with a mixture of awe and foreboding. Then Daniel stepped forward.

"Uh, yes," Daniel replied, "I did, at least I called asking for help. "I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, a member of SG1…"

"I know, from the planet Earth," the woman said. "I believe you are human."

"I am," Daniel confirmed. He waited patiently for the visitor to introduce herself. He was intrigued.

"My name is Leah," the woman volunteered. "I too am human. More than that, I am imbued with the knowledge of the Gadmeer for the purpose of communicating with you."

"You're human?" Daniel questioned.

"Made in her image, yes," Leah confirmed.

_That was cryptic_, he thought. _Her?_

"Made in whose image?" Daniel questioned.

"The Gadmeer tell me the one I resemble is not important," Leah replied. "I am myself, not my progenitor."

Daniel looked at her quizzically. She looked familiar, something was slightly off, but she looked like …

That particular puzzle would have to wait. Before he could ask any more questions, Leah broke Daniel's train of thought.

"We know where they are," she said. "The location is not accessible by Stargate. We must take our ship and reach Lotan and your friends before it is too late."

"We are ready to leave immediately," Teal'c stated. As he spoke, the larger man stepped into the center of the square to stand by Daniel's side.

"Admirable," Leah said, "your determination to help your comrades speaks highly of your people." She paused, studying Teal'c. "But you, you are not human."

"I am not," Teal'c replied. "I am Jaffa, allied with the Taur'i, these humans, for many years."

"I understand," Leah said, nodding solemnly. "The Gadmeer are bound and committed to Lotan in a similar way."

Daniel and the others listened to Leah's revelation. They were surprised the Gadmeer would think of Lotan as one of them.

Leah continued. "Before we attempt to rescue Lotan and your friends, there must be certain ... understandings," she said. Much like Lotan before her, Leah's words were delivered with a straightforward, unemotional cadence, her expressions calm and unchanging throughout. "The Gadmeer will depend on you to execute much of this rescue operation."

Daniel listened intently as did everyone else in the group, Enkaran, Jaffa and human alike.

"So you said," Daniel began, "when you answered my SOS. I have to admit, I'm curious. How can _we_ help _you_? You have the big ship and you know where they are ..."

Leah looked at Daniel. If he didn't know better, he'd interpret her very slight smile as condescension.

"We need your help on two fronts, Daniel Jackson," she said." First of all, you must know the Gadmeer are and always have been pacifists. We will not make war on anyone, even a species which has harmed us. We act only out of self defense. Even then, we avoid using lethal force. Therefore, if that sort of action is needed to rescue your people, you must be the ones to act."

Daniel nodded and looked over to Teal'c whom he knew was more than ready for "that sort of action".

"We are prepared to do whatever is necessary to retrieve our friends," Teal'c supplied.

"Excellent," Leah responded.

"You said you needed our help on two fronts," Daniel said, returning to Leah's original statement.

"Yes," the Gadmeer representative continued. "Someone or something has taken possession of our friend, Lotan. We believe you are familiar with the parasitic species responsible."

"That's true," Daniel said, "we are. The creature you're talking about is a Goa'uld. We've fought them for several years. It's possible your friend has been taken by one of the last remaining leaders of this species."

"Then you know how to help Lotan," Leah stated decisively.

Daniel was silent for a moment, processing Leah's matter-of- fact statement.

"You want us to help you remove the symbiote?"

"Yes, the parasite, it must be removed," Leah confirmed.

"Our race doesn't have the technology for that," Daniel said. "But we know another that does, our allies, the Tok'ra."

"And this procedure is successful?"

"Yes, the Tok'ra have perfected the extraction process," Daniel confirmed, his mind struggling to keep up. _What is she leading up to here?_

"Tell me," Leah inquired, "how long before one of these Tok'ra is able to accompany us."

Daniel looked at Teal'c. The two were intimately acquainted with the lack of Tok'ra cooperation and availability, particularly when they were needed the most.

"We'll contact them," Daniel said. "We'll do our best to have them available when we return."

"I'm afraid I must insist this Tok'ra be a part of the rescue mission," Leah said softly. "We cannot embark until this one has been secured."

Daniel looked around, exchanging concerned glances with everyone, especially Teal'c. If the Gadmeer refused to take them where they needed to go, they were out of luck. Without Stargate access, they'd need a ship; the Daedelus was in Pegasus for at least another week. Options were limited.

"But you said we needed to go right away," he protested.

"We cannot risk Lotan's well being," Leah countered. "Though we have been able to track him, as of yet, we have been unable to reestablish direct contact with him. That being the case, I believe he would be in danger from any offensive assault your people would launch."

Daniel remembered his past attempts to negotiate with the Gadmeer. Though they'd been reasonable, they held all the cards. He realized he could work with Leah to develop another solution, but in the meantime they might as well work on getting the Tok'ra on board.

"How long will it take for you to get one of the Tok'ra back here, Teal'c?" Daniel asked.

"I am not certain, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied. As he spoke, the large man stared intently at the Gadmeer's representative. "However," he continued, "I am willing to return to their present location and enlist their aid."

Leah returned Teal'c's normally intimidating glare with a pleasant, calm gaze of her own.

"I believe you would ask me something," Leah observed.

"Indeed," Teal'c replied. "Where are our friends? You said that you have tracked Lotan. Where is he?"

"I regret that we must withhold that information until such time as our joint mission is ready to embark."

"Our friends may not survive," Teal'c observed sternly. "They need our help now."

Leah did not respond. Her silence spoke volumes. Discussion was pointless, her position non-negotiable, at least for the time being.

Daniel was grateful the Gadmeer had sent an unassuming, attractive woman as their representative. Otherwise, he feared Teal'c might have done the messenger irreparable bodily harm. As it was, the angry Jaffa swallowed his misgivings and prepared to do the only thing he could, for now.

" I will depart and return with the Tok'ra," Teal'c announced. His face a resolute warrior's mask of determinatin, he immediately started toward the Stargate.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I was glad to see so many of you are still reading after my delay in posting the last chapter. Thanks for your patience and for your reviews and suggestions.

I'd love to know what you think of Leah. Please review.


	14. Chapter 14 Chances of Survival

_Daniel was grateful the Gadmeer had sent an unassuming, attractive woman as their representative. Otherwise, he feared Teal'c could have done the messenger irreparable bodily harm. As it was, the angry Jaffa swallowed his misgivings and prepared to do the only thing he could._

_"Then I will depart and return with the Tok'ra."_

Chapter 14: Chances of Survival

Teal'c intended to leave immediately. It was a good two clicks from the central square to the Enkaran Gate. And there wasn't a moment to lose. The Gadmeer's stubborn refusal to help without the guarantee of Tok'ra assistance left him little choice. Jack and Sam's lives could depend on his prompt powers of persuasion. There was no time for arguments, bargaining or long good-byes. He'd leave the negotiations such as they might be to Daniel.

The Jaffa's solemn nod to his friend told all that needed to be said.

"Good luck, Teal'c," Daniel replied.

"I will bring them, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c answered.

Daniel regarded his friend with renewed appreciation. Teal'c was a man of his convictions. If he said he'd get something done, you knew it would happen. He only hoped it would be soon enough. Better yet, he hoped the Tok'ra would be in one piece when he arrived.

"Remember, we need the Tok'ra _alive_," Daniel said, only half in jest. Predictably, his attempt at levity was lost on Teal'c.

"I shall endeavor to avoid violent methods of persuasion, Daniel Jackson," he replied. And with that, he embarked on his journey, alone.

Shortly after Teal'c vanished from sight, Leah said her goodbyes, at least for the time being.

"Now I will return to the ship," she said. Coming to stand beside Daniel, she held out her hand. In it was a device no larger than a computer flash drive.

"You may use this to communicate me," she said. "If needed, we will bring you aboard for further discussion once the Tok'ra has arrived."

"I was hoping we could talk before that happens," Daniel said.

"That could be arranged," the Gadmeer representative replied. "However, it should not be for the purpose of shifting our resolve."

"Of course not," Daniel replied. _I wouldn't dream of it._

OoOoOo

Ba'al quickly fell into the habit of calling for Sam, sometimes more than once a day. If it were anyone but Ba'al, Sam would have thought him the perfect gentleman. He hadn't laid a hand on her, and aside from the captivity, had treated her with respect and deference each time she'd been summoned to his personal quarters. Regardless of his restraint, she dreaded each moment spent in his company. Beyond her distaste for the Goa'uld, she worried about Jack's medical stability when she was gone and begrudged the time she could have been spending with her husband. Despite her resolve to persevere, it didn't take much to imagine their time together might be drawing short.

This particular night, it was clear Ba'al had an agenda for their time together.

"I have a proposition for you, Samantha," he announced as soon as she entered his chamber. "May I call you Samantha?"

Sam did her best to avoid any reaction to Ba'al's foolish request for permission. After all the abuse they'd suffered, it was a little late to ask permission for anything.

"What do you want?"

"It's more about what you want my dear," he rejoined. "You see, I have the feeling you and I could be happy together, enjoy each other's company even, given the right circumstances."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," he said, not bothering to elaborate. He was coming to the point of his argument soon enough. "Yes, I am convinced of it."

"Really?" Sam questioned, disbelief more than evident in her tone. " I suppose you have a snake waiting for me in one of those little jars in the corner."

"Sadly, no," Ba'al admitted. "Because of the recent defeats of my kind, I no longer have access to the others. Many of us have been destroyed. We are on the verge of extinction thanks to you and the Tok'ra. It is a tragedy of galactic proportions. Still, I know others survive. The time will come when I'm able to join them. Then I hope to make you my queen in all ways. But for now, I'll settle for a loving human relationship with you."

Sam kept silent. _He has to be kidding._

Ba'al paced. His hands behind his back, chest thrust forward, Sam could almost picture the old Ba'al they'd come to hate.

"What I believe stands in our way in my current host body. Hardly an illustrious physical specimen if I do say so. Still he was the best available at the time. I had high hopes for Lotan. He was after all connected to that wonderful Gadmeer knowledge. But he refused to share it with me. And the body, so weak really …

"How sad for you," Sam quipped.

Her insolence was lost on the Goa'uld. Caught up in his own thoughts and plotting, Ba'al continued on.

"I was hoping Lotan would be different from the other Enkarans," Ba'al said, "stronger, able to leave their pathetic planet without suffering damaging effects. It stood to reason; he was part of the ship after all. Imagine my surprise, Samantha, when I learned he'd become simply another Enkaran! Even I am unable to compensate for his genetic inferiority. His eyesight is deteriorating, he is plagued by headaches. I require a new host."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"A great deal, my dear," he replied. "A new host body might be more suited to our relationship. In fact, the one I have in mind will be intimately suited. It's one you know quite well actually."

Sam froze in her place as she took in Ba'al's meaning. Averting her eyes she did her best to avoid any verbal response. Before she realized what was happening she was holding her breath.

"You are surprised," he said. "You shouldn't be. You know the affection with which I hold your husband. I would find it most … exhilarating to blend with him."

Sam could only imagine the look on her face. She felt as if she'd been sucker punched. Ba'al wanted Jack as his host; the thought was appalling. And she said so.

"You know he would rather die than have that happen."

"Yes," Ba'al agreed. "Then again, it is not his choice."

"I suppose," she replied flatly. "You'll do whatever you chose."

"Not at all, my dear," Ba'al differed. "Once again, this will be_ your _choice."

The world started to tilt on its axis, spinning out of control. She felt numb.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am offering you one last chance to prolong your precious husband's life," Ba'al said, attempting to be gracious. "He is dying. You've noticed his body's fever. He will succumb soon in spite of your best efforts. But I can help."

"You can _help_ by giving me the healing device or letting us go."

He smiled.

"Would you rather lose him altogether? Or would you prefer to feel the touch of his hands, his lips on yours … for eternity. That's how it could be you know. Perhaps I would even let you hear his voice from time to time."

"Stop it!" Sam screamed. "I don't want to hear anymore." Struggling to maintain a modicum of composure in the light of his obscene offer, Sam walked to the far end of the elaborately furnished room.

"Think about my offer," Ba'al persisted, ignoring Sam's obvious distress. "I offer you the possibility of unlimited life with your mate. But I insist the choice be yours."

Sam stood speechless. She wanted this to be over. _Just let me go back to Jack_.

Ba'al paused, taking in the sight of Sam's wordless struggle. He could wait, at least a little while. _The delicious dilemma will be all the sweeter_, he thought.

"In the meantime, I would like you to change your clothing," Ba'al said, gesturing to a colorful silken dress lying over the large bed. "It is unjust to hide your beauty in such plain, may I say, unflattering garments," he continued.

"I like my clothing as it is," she responded, referring to the rumpled regulation uniform she was wearing. She barely recognized the sound of her own shaken voice.

Sam waited cautiously for Ba'al's response to her admittedly muted defiance.

"Do this, Samantha, and I will spare O'Neill today's trial," he offered.

It wasn't the response she'd anticipated. But as her rattled mind processed it, she realized it could be an opportunity. And she could keep Jack from suffering any further indignities, at least for today.

"Fine," she said. "I'll change ... _in private_."

"Why of course, my dear," he said. "I'd have it no other way, for now."

OoOoOo

True to his word, Ba'al left her alone to change.

In her earlier visits to Ba'al's private chamber, Sam had visually scanned the area for monitoring devices visible to the naked eye. Now as she began to change clothes, she did so once again and found none. For all she knew, he could still be watching. But with any luck Ba'al was arrogant enough to believe she was no longer a threat.

As she dressed, she made her way around the room, exploring nooks and crannies, pulling open drawers and opening small boxes. She knew her time was limited.

And there it was, not exactly what she was looking for, but close enough. It was a Goa'uld device powered by the ever present crystal technology. Easily palmed, easily concealed within the elaborate folds of her new favorite dress. Maybe this particular visit wasn't the disaster she had first thought.

Now if he would only take her back to Jack.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15 Powers of Persuasion

_And there it was, not exactly what she was looking for, but close enough. It was a Goa'uld device powered by the ever present crystal technology. Easily palmed, easily concealed within the elaborate folds of her new favorite dress. Maybe this particular visit wasn't the disaster she had first thought._

_Now if he would only take her back to Jack._

* * *

Chapter 15: Powers of Persuasion

It was nearly an hour before Ba'al returned for her. By then, Sam was sick with worry for Jack, desperate to be sure he was alright. For days, her battered husband had been unable to safely move from bed to chair on his own. Worse yet, he'd come to depend on her help to care for some of his most basic needs. She wanted, needed to be there for him.

Fortunately, when Ba'al returned, he wasn't in the mood for conversation. After a brief round of half-hearted comments about how lovely she looked in the royal blue gown he'd provided, he coldly ordered his Jaffa to return Sam to her cell. _He doesn't look well, _Sam reflected. Pallid, dripping with perspiration, Lotan's visage was far from the picture of health. Then again, Sam hadn't seen many sick Goa'ulds. She doubted the creature within the Enkaran had any tolerance for illness whatsoever. She almost wished she could stick around to see his reactions, to see Ba'al suffer. In the back of her mind it occurred to her that figuring out what was wrong with Ba'al/Lotan might give her leverage. He'd mentioned headaches. Goa'uld didn't have headaches. Something was going on. But that would have to wait. No doubt, Ba'al would summon her again, all too soon. For now, she wanted to see Jack.

Sam returned to find her husband fast asleep, more or less in the position she'd left him. It seemed Ba'al had kept his word and left Jack alone. She was grateful for small favors. Perhaps she could buy Jack time to heal before the next round of abuse. But how much was she willing to humor Ba'al? What was the price? What would he demand? She only prayed it would be something she was able to give, something that didn't compromise the security of others.

Ignoring everything else, Sam walked to Jack's bedside and reached to take his hand. It was warm, too warm. She leaned forward and placed her lips gently on his forehead. He was even more feverish than when she left him. Worse yet, she realized his breathing was labored; she could hear an ominous rattling with every breath he took. She had minimal medical training, but it didn't take a doctor to realize the prolonged inactivity made Jack a likely candidate for pneumonia.

She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, slowly, in and out, struggling to control her own mounting anxiety. Pneuomonia, infected wounds, unable to eat, daily beatings and no decent medical care ... how was he going to survive this? Sam, the one who always had answers, out of the box solutions in the most desperate situations, the one Jack relied on, Sam was stymied. She couldn't begin to imagine a realistic way Jack could survive the continuing onslaughts suffered by his body. She had no idea how she could save him.

_If only I'd been able to find an actual healing device , _she thought, referring to the non-descript crystal device she'd pilfered from Ba'al's quarters. Sure, she'd taken it in hopes of jerryrigging something she could use as a weapon, but Jack might not last that long. There wouldn't be time.

_Come on, Sam, snap out of it, _she thought. _Take care of him_. _He needs you; you can worry later._

Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall, Sam set to work. First she rolled up a blanket and placed it under the single pillow below Jack's head. With his head more elevated, she hoped his breathing might be a bit easier. Then she rolled up the sleeves of her lovely gown, poured fresh water into a basin and gathered several of the clean towels provided for them. _Damn him_, she thought, cursing Ba'al silently. _He provides enough … enough for …_ Hard as she tried she couldn't complete the thought… _but not enough for me to save him … not what he really needs, medicines, freedom._

Calming her rage and the terror that lay beneath it, Sam wet each towel and carefully wrung out the excess water. Then she began to place the cool, wet towels on Jack's forehead, his arms, his chest, doing her best to bring his temperature down. She realized she was only prolonging the inevitable. Without antibiotics and proper medical intervention, her patient didn't have much of a chance, but she could make him more comfortable. So she continued, slowly and lovingly sponging the cool water over his body, murmuring words of comfort as she did so. _Comfort care ... I can do that... I can do that much for him._

After a half hour or so, Jack began to shiver. At first, Sam had no idea whether his reaction was a result of the fever or a response to her cooling attempts. Instinctively, she pulled a blanket up over him covering his bare, rapidly cooling skin. And she leaned in over him, reachingone hand up to caress his cheek, hoping to see his eyes open. When they did, she was pleasantly surprised.

"Hi," he murmured, struggling to get the word out between a fit of coughing.

"Hi, yourself," Sam replied. Hearing his voice was music to her ears.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Jack said, the hint of a smirk tickling his lips. The man had been beaten within an inch of his life and looked the part. Still, here he was making light of their situation. _Gallows humor ..._

"No," Sam said stridently, finding no trace of humor in his vain attempt to cheer her. "You're going to be fine."

Jack let the obvious falsehood pass. He leaned into Sam's body as she tried to lift his head up further.

"I'm in heaven," he said dreamily, his eyes starting to drift shut in spite of his best intentions, "you look so beautiful."

The last thing Sam felt was beautiful. She assumed he was referring to the terribly out of place dress she was wearing. For his sake, she'd try to play along.

"You like the dress?" She said awkwardly.

"I _like_ seeing your face," he clarified, wincing as another cough racked his chest.

"Shh…" she soothed.

He smiled weakly.

"You know what's wrong with me?" Jack asked.

Sam nodded.

"Infection, fever …"

"Is that all?" Jack quipped, attempting to stop the recitation he knew he'd mistakenly invited.

_That and probably half a dozen other things, _Sam thought_. _But she remained silent. They both knew what was happening. Putting it in words wouldn't make it any better. So she did the next best thing.

"Here, now you're awake, you need to drink something," she said, holding his head up with one arm and holding a cup of water to his lips with the other. He complied for a moment, sipping some of the liquid. Then he pulled back, making it clear he'd had enough.

"How are _you_?" Jack whispered intently.

Sam toyed with the idea of ignoring the question, lying, maybe minimizing, but she knew her eyes betrayed her. Jack knew her too well; even in his current condition she realized Jack could see the misery in her eyes.

"How are you?" Jack repeated when she didn't answer.

"He wants you as a host," she blurted out. "It's what he's been after all along."

As soon as the words escaped her mouth, Sam regretted it. Jack's face, pale beyond belief to start with, blanched even more and the muscles of his jaw tensed. His eyes found and held hers. The plea was unmistakable. It took him long moments to swallow the shock and say what needed to be said, but the result was the same. Sam knew what he would say before he was able to find the words.

"Don't let him," Jack said, his face contorting in disgust at the very thought. "Don't Sam. Please, don't."

Sam nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I want you to kill me before you let him do that," Jack said, using what little strength he had to punctuate his insistance. " Promise me!"

_He's too sick to argue with … delirious really … but I could never kill him, never take his life ... he has to know that ... he can't ask me._

"Jack ..."

"Sam ... I can't live like that ... promise me..."

_I can do whatever has to be done. He needs to know I'll take care of him._

"I promise," she said.

Sam had little doubt she'd be called to fulfill that promise. Sooner or later, Ba'al would force her hand.

OoOoOo

Teal'c returned to Rahalla unannounced. The new homeworld of the Tok'ra, Rahalla was supposed to have been the final resting place of the last of the Goa'uld system lords, Ba'al. The Tok'ra ruling council had taken great pride in the elaborate ceremony they'd undertaken to celebrate the destruction of that most hated of all symbiotes. After it was over, they'd gone on with the business of rebuilding their own civilization, on the symbolic grave of the Goa'uld.

Actually, they were building anew. The Tok'ra had never been in the position to have a civilization of their own, a culture not linked to that of their mortal enemy. Their very name bore witness to that fact, Tok'ra, against Ra. With the death of Ba'al they felt free, free to find their way. It was an opportunity they'd pursued for millenia, something to be cherished now that it was within their reach.

The Jaffa who now sought their help threatened to snatch that opportunity from their hands. To admit Ba'al remained a threat on any level would once again commit the Tok'ra to a battle they'd resolved was over.

Teal'c's recent revelation that they'd been deceived by Ba'al yet again was distasteful to say the least. When he'd left them to return to Enkara, they were relieved. His absence made it easier to deny their failure. His return was hardly met with enthusiasm. His was an inconvenient truth. There was more work to be done to rid the galaxy of the plague that was the Goa'uld. But the Tok'ra wanted nothing to do with it.

Now in the meeting hall of the Grand Council, the same place he'd supposedly witnessed the death of Ba'al, Teal'c pressed his case.

"What makes you think Ba'al has infested this artificial being? Natal, the convener of the Tok'ra ruling body demanded. "How would it even be possible?"

"I do not know," Teal'c responded honestly. "I do know that my friends have been held captive for nearly four weeks. General O'Neill and Colonel Carter have worked to free us all from the slavery of the Goa'uld. They now require your help."

"The Grand Council of the Tok'ra regrets that such help is not available," Natal supplied coldly.

"You are refusing to send an extraction team," Teal'c stated, his voice stating the reality he feared.

"That is correct," Nadal confirmed. "We cannot risk our operatives at this time."

Teal'c was incensed

"And yet these Taur'i have risked their lives repeatedly in order to secure victory over an enemy you could never defeat."

Natal stood placidly, regarding the lone Jaffa in their midst. Yes, Teal'c was a force to be reckoned with but, to a Tok'ra, he was still only a Jaffa.

"Do not forget, the Goa'uld were enemy to us all," Natal countered. "They fought as much for themselves as for us."

"Our only chance to rescue my teammates requires the assistance of the Gadmeer," Teal'c said. "And their only condition is that you be available to help Lotan. Is that truly too much to ask of the Tok'ra, our allies?"

"It is not our concern," came the unabashed reply.

"You should be ashamed," Teal'c said. "You call yourselves Tok'ra, yet you act with the cowardice of the Goauld!"

Natal could countenance no more. He'd had enough.

Eyes flashing, the High Councilor ordered Teal'c removed from the council chambers.

_OoOoOo_

Having secured Sam's promise, Jack drifted off once more. If nothing else, his weakened condition promised him the blessed escape of sleep, or better yet unconsciousness.

Sam wasn't as lucky. Wide awake, she sat at his bedside, her head lying on the bed next to his, willing him to keep fighting.

_I love you. I'll do my best to take care of you, Jack. Believe me. If it comes to that, I'll see to it we both die before Ba'al has his way. If I have to take your life, there's no way I'm staying behind. _

A proud, experienced military officer, Samantha Carter felt helpless, almost panicky at the thought. That didn't mean she wasn't up to the challenge

_I can do it, if I have to. I can do just about anything I have to do for Jack._

_I should have known he wanted something like this, _Sam berated herself_. The way he played us, the way he's been playing us since the beginning. If I'd figured it out earlier ..._

Ba'al's proposition reverberated in her mind. _To have Jack with me forever, restored to health. Ba'al promised. Then again, he's a Goa'uld; to him a promise is no more than a momentary convenience. To even consider what this monster asks is insanity. But maybe, maybe if it buys us just a little more time,_ _I can_ _find another answer, save Jack, destroy Ba'al. But Jack would never forgive me, it would be something he could never forgive. Hell, I'd never forgive myself._

Certain no sleep would come to her, Sam sat up in her chair. She took one last look at Jack. He didn't seem nearly as feverish as he had earlier. She took some comfort in that. There was no more she could do for him tonight.

It was time to work her magic on the crystal device. It would take time, and she'd have to do her best to stay out of sight of the cameras, but with a little luck ...

TBC


	16. Chapter 16 Time Constraints

_Eyes flashing, the High Councilor ordered Teal'c removed from the council chambers._

* * *

Chapter 16: Time Constraints

While Teal'c struggled with the Tok'ra on Rahalla, Daniel was in the midst of his own diplomatic trial by fire. Surprisingly enough, he soon realized some of his biggest challenges on the diplomatic front would come from his own people.

Shortly after Teal'c's departure for Rahalla and Leah's return to the Gadmeer ship, Daniel contacted Stargate Command to update General Landry on the current state of the search and rescue mission. The scheduled check-in quickly morphed into something more ominous as Landry ordered Daniel back to the SGC for a more detailed accounting of events. Daniel had protested at first, insisting there was more he could do on Enkara, especially negotiating with Leah, but Landry wasn't about to budge. The operative words were, "Now, Dr. Jackson."

Hank Landry was not impressed with the progress of the mission thus far. In fact, he felt it had been an all out failure. After all, it had been a month. And in all that time, not one of his operatives could assure him two of the most valuable members of the US Air Force were still alive. Worse yet, he was justifiably worried about his friends. He wanted to know beyond a shadow of a doubt everything that could be done was being done to bring them home. The delay imposed by the Gadmeer was the final straw as far as he was concerned. And he let Daniel know it in no uncertain terms. What Daniel could not know was the pressure Landry was under to bring the entire proceedings to a swift conclusion

Daniel arrived to a nearly empty gate room. Two armed airmen were there on general principles. Standing ahead of them was Colonel Cameron Mitchell. He looked miserable.

"Cam," Daniel greeted as he walked down the ramp. "What's wrong?"

"Let's see," Cam said, pausing momentarily. "Sam and General O'Neill are still missing … and, oh yeah, General Landry's on the warpath. I suggest we get up there before he comes for you personally."

"Dr. Jackson," Landry's voice boomed over the intercom from the control room.

"Too late," Cam said sotto voice.

"Briefing room, now!" Landry bellowed.

Daniel looked up to the control room window and caught a glimpse of his superior's agitated face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Hank Landry show this much emotion. Cam caught Daniel's reaction.

"He wants them back, Daniel," Cam said, "now."

"Yeah, I got that," Daniel said. Without more delay, he started to follow the SG1 leader from the Gateroom. It had been a while since Daniel had seen Cam quite this focused. Landry had made an impression. They met Vala on the way to the briefing room.

"Hi," Daniel said to the alien woman who'd quickly become a bit more than a friend. "I've missed you."

"Me too," Vala replied simply.

Even Vala was subdued. That caught Daniel's attention in a whole different way.

"I'm as upset about this as anyone," Daniel said, "but has something happened I don't know about?"

"You could say that Dr. Jackson," Hank Landry said, walking up to the trio. He'd overheard the last comment as the team made their way into the conference area. Seated at the table waiting for them was SG3 and Colonel Reynolds. Daniel had expected to see another SG team in attendance. But seated at the head of the table were two faces Daniel didn't recognize.

"Dr. Jackson, let me introduce Timothy Ashton and Ronald Miller. They're here to monitor the situation for the IOA," Landry informed him.

_Great_, Daniel thought_. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the bureaucrats join the party. Probably explains some of the attitude around here today._

"Tell me, Dr. Jackson, why are we waiting for the Tok'ra?" It was Ronald Miller, a balding thirty something man who took the lead with the questioning, starting even before Daniel, Cam and Vala had a chance to take their seats.

Excuse me," Daniel said, "Why are you here?" _And what gives you the right to walk in here and start questioning what we're doing._

Landry took a deep breath. He didn't expect the IOA representatives to receive a particularly warm reception. He hadn't been all that happy to see them himself. But he'd hoped Daniel would have been a bit more diplomatic.

"Dr. Jackson," Ron Miller began with an air of condescension, "since you obviously want to be direct, I'll get right to the point. The IOA, in negotiation with the President, has determined that the resources expended to find these two officers cannot be limitless. You've been given one more week to show definitive progress in this search. If there is no evidence General O'Neill and Colonel Carter are still alive by that time, the search will be suspended indefinitely."

Daniel looked silently from Mitchell to Vala and back again. Cam looked ready to spit and Vala, well she was on the verge of a major explosion. By contrast, Landry was calm; Daniel assumed his superior had already made his protests and was overruled. And SG3, well they were stone faced, waiting for their marching order.

"A week?" Daniel parrotted.

"Yes," Ron Miller answered. "We believe that is more than fair."

"_We_", Daniel mouthed to Vala .

Daniel had been in this position with the IOA before. He knew the others felt as appalled as he did. Regardless of what the powers that be said, he'd search for his friends as long as was necessary. He knew Vala, Mitchell and several others would be right there beside him regardless of the consequences.

"I see," Daniel answered flatly.

"We're glad you do," Miller replied. "Now if we can get back to my original question. Why are we waiting for the Tok'ra. Your reports indicate the Gadmeer are willing to help us and believe they know the location of your missing team members."

"Yes, they are," Daniel said. "But they are unwilling to risk Lotan in any assault on Ba'al's sanctuary. They are convinced that if they wait until they make contact with him he'll be able to help."

The IOA representatives looked puzzled. Landry did as well. The General was the one to pursue the questioning

"Make contact?" Landry questioned. "Did this representative happen to tell you how they intend to 'make contact' with an infected host?"

"Not exactly, Sir," Daniel said, "but I'd guess they have some sort of neural link."

Landry did his best to stay on Daniel's side in this, but couldn't help what he said next.

"We need more than guesses here, Dr. Jackson."

"Yes, Sir."

With that, Cam jumped in hoping to get his friend off the hot seat, before the frustrated linguist said something he'd live to regret.

"So why the Tok'ra?" Cam asked.

"The Gadmeer want to be able to save Lotan, remove the symbiote."

Timothy Ashton spoke up at this point. "From what I'm hearing, all we are certain of is that this alien creature, Lotan, is still living. But we have no concrete information on our people."

Daniel considered his response carefully. They were right. No one had seen or heard from Sam or Jack. They were trusting in the information provided by two alien cultures to deduce where their missing teammates _might be_. And it had taken weeks to get this far.

There wasn't much he could say. Truth be told, he was as frustrated as everyone else. The only difference was the patience he'd learned over the past thirteen years of working with alien cultures and unimaginable situations. That and an innate faith in the ability of his teammates to survive convinced him the situation was far from hopeless.

"You're right, Mr. Ashton, our information is limited," Daniel said. "But our best chance of getting them back is hovering over Enkara right now."

"The Gadmeer ship?"

"Exactly."

"How do you know they're even still alive?"

Vala had been quiet and well behaved long enough. She decided this was as good a time as any to make her own views known.

"I've been on Earth a relatively short time …Sirs," she said as respectfully as possible. "I've been honored to serve side-by-side with Samantha Carter and many of the others at this table. And I've learned a great deal about the heroics of General O'Neill. These people have an uncanny talent for survival in the worst of circumstances. It's up to us to do what we can to help them. I, for one, intend to do just that."

With that Hank Landry stood up, effectively ending discussion. He knew a situation requiring a strong hand when he saw one. Both the IOA and his people were right. The search couldn't go on forever _and_ they couldn't give up. As commander, it was his job to see to it the search and rescue mission was a success.

"Alright," Landry said, "I've heard enough. Colonel Mitchell, you'll accompany me to Rahalla. We're going to help Teal'c convince the Tok'ra it's to their advantage to help us. Dr. Jackson, I want you to obtain more specific information from the Gadmeer representative. "

"Anything in particular you want me to find out, since I assume she's dying to share information," Daniel quipped irritably. He couldn't believe Landry was giving in to the IOA pressure.

"I don't appreciate your tone, Dr. Jackson," Landry said. "But yes, there's quite a bit I'd like to determine from our so called 'ally'. First of all, how did a Goa'uld symbiote infest an artificial life form and how do we know this Lotan won't turn on us once he's rescued. Then I want to know our estimated departure time for wherever it is we're going. Let her know we'll be dispatching two teams to do the dirty work and we'd like them to take up positions on that ship ASAP. Better yet, get her to tell you where this Lotan is and we'll go there ourselves."

"We aren't calling the shots here , General" Danied remined him. "This race is far beyond us in their abilities."

"What like the Asgard, Tokra, Goauld, Nox perhaps?" Landry contemplated.

"Pretty much," Daniel said. "We can't force them to do anything."

"That fine, Dr. Jackson," Landry said. "But let her know, in no uncertain terms, we don't leave our people behind."

oOoOoO

It had been two days since Sam shared Ba'al's proposition with Jack. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

In that time, Ba'al hadn't visited, hadn't taken Jack. Fresh food and more clothing had been sent, but that was all. Jack's condition hadn't improved, but then again it hadn't noticeably worsened. Given their circumstances, it was probably the best that could be expected. _With any luck at all, Ba'al really is sick_, Sam reflected.

Jack slept most of the time. Sam assumed this was a good thing, hopefully allowing his body to heal somewhat. When he did wake, Sam saw to it he consumed some liquids and encouraged him to eat as much as he was able.

He didn't speak much, but when he did Jack reminded Sam of two things: how much he loved her and her promise. As if she needed to be reminded. It was all she thought about.

Each time Jack slid back to sleep, Sam was left on her own. She spent the hours fiddling with the crystal device she'd stolen, using crude tools to pry apart and rearrange its components. She'd give anything to have access to her lab. As it was, making anything functional out of this simple everyday device she'd taken from their captor was a long shot. And it was difficult to focus. The promise Jack had extracted from her hung over her head like the cruel blade of an ancient guillotine.

"Samantha."

Sam turned toward the voice. Their tormentor was back for another round. She hurried to tuck the crystal device into a drawer before turning to face Ba'al. When she did, she was impressed by his silent stance. For a moment she felt intense anger emanating from the simple face she was growing to despise. He stared at her and then at the drawer where she'd hid the device. He knew. Preparing for his wrath, Sam's body tensed. _Fight or flight, _she thought. Ready for Ba'al to act, she was surprised when he seemed to lose his concentration. Then, he blinked rapidly for a few seconds, closed his eyes and lowered his head.

When he looked up and opened his eyes again, the fire was gone.

It was Lotan who spoke.

"What is happening," the Enkaran asked in a small, frail voice. "Where am I?"

"Lotan?" Sam said the name, hardly daring to hope the Enkaran had taken control.

"Yes, finally I am myself," he said. "But there is great evil inside me."

"It's a creature we call a Goa'uld," Sam supplied. She sympathized with the overwhelming disorientation Lotan must be feeling.

"The Gadmeer are trying to help me," Lotan continued. "They're calling for me."

Sam watched Lotan intently. He was barely aware of her presence. His eyes focused on something she could not see, he appeared to be responding solely to internal stimuli. _Can they really communicate with him?_ Sam wondered.

"I know you," he said unexpectedly, suddenly turning his attention to Sam. "You are one of the humans. I am so sorry for what I am doing to you."

Before Sam could respond, Lotan's head fell forward. His moment of freedom was over.

Ba'al raised his head. Lotan's expression changed immediately.

He was angry, indignant. His eyes flashed.

"This is unacceptable!" Ba'al shouted.

"Chose, my dear," he said. "The time is running short. Offering your husband to me as a host could be a pleasant experience. But your resistance can make it something else altogether."

Sam stayed silent.

"Do not mistake what you saw of the host as a sign of hope," he cautioned. "Lotan is weak; he is no match for me. He cannot help you."

Then, turning to the Jaffa waiting outside the chamber, he ordered, "Take him!"

"No," Sam said.

"It may be the last time, my dear. O'Neill cannot tolerate much more of this abuse. I fear our game is at an end."

"Then don't do this," Sam reasoned. "Why continue to torture the man you want as a host?"

"This is your punishment for stealing from me," Ba'al said, smiling as he spoke. "Surely by now you've realized all you've gotten for your trouble is an outdated page turning device. Play with it all you want; the crystals have not functioned for some time now."

Sam looked at him silently, while the Jaffa dragged Jack from the bed. Jack moaned, barely opening his eyes as the two large men swung his arms over their shoulders. With little effort they pulled him past Sam and out the door.

"Why do this?" Sam asked plaintively. "If the device is of no use, why punish him?"

"As I said, this is _your_ punishment. If I am to take you as my queen, I must be able to trust you. I planted the device as a test. You failed," Ba'al said. "But you will learn."

As Ba'al finished speaking, he turned and followed Jack and the Jaffa from the cell, closing the door behind him.

Sam stood still, closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for her husband. Then she returned to work. The burned out page turning device wasn't the only thing she had taken. She intended to find a way out of this, for both of them.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to all you faithful readers and many, many thanks to the cadre of very faithful reviewers for all of your encouragement!

More surprises to come, hope you'll stay with the story and review when you can.


	17. Chapter 17 Miara

"_As I said, this is your punishment. If I am to take you as my queen, I must be able to trust you. I planted the device as a test. You failed," Ba'al said. "But you will learn."_

_As Ba'al finished speaking, he turned and followed Jack and the Jaffa from the cell, closing the door behind him._

_Sam stood still, closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for her husband. Then she returned to work. The burned out page turning device wasn't the only thing she had taken. She intended to find a way out of this, for both of them._

* * *

Chapter 17: Miara

A watch was a means of maintaining orientation in a disorienting situation. Most often in captivity, it was removed immediately. But not this time. This time, Ba'al had broken all the rules of a good old fashioned Goa'uld captivity.

By Sam's estimate, Jack had been gone at least six hours. Her internal clock was the only way she had to gauge time now. Her SGC issue timepiece had been confiscated a little over a week ago. Like many other things about this captivity, the delay in taking this small convenience puzzled her.

With no windows, no watch and no daily routine it was difficult to mark time, even with the tried and true methods she'd learned through years of painful experience. Staying focused on escape and the work she needed to do was almost impossible. She couldn't remember when she'd had more than an hour's uninterrupted sleep at a time. It was wearing her down. If that was Ba'al's plan, he was succeeding. Emotionally and physically, she was tired. The more she fought it, the more tired and fearful she became. To make it worse the tendrils of depression and despair were winding their way through her heart and soul. These moments without Jack were the worst. When he was gone, she wondered if he'd be coming back at all. For all she knew these moments with Ba'al could be his last. In his current state, she couldn't imagine how he'd survive anymore abuse. He might breathe his last without her. The thought of Jack dying alone with Ba'al froze the breath within her. And it would be her fault. She hadn't acted quickly enough to save him.

This line of thinking was getting her nowhere.

_Stop it!_

Sam shook free of her paralyzing fear and jumped to her feet. She had to clear her head, regain perspective, focus.

She was making progress on the crystal device. Unbeknownst to Ba'al, she'd stolen _two_ devices. One the non-functioning page turner, the other, an apparently outmoded healing device, missing one of the crystals needed to channel the energy of the user. Working literally in the dark, with no specific knowledge of the functionality of the specific crystals, with minimal ambient light, and hunched over a far corner of the table to avoid the snooping lens of Ba'al's camera, she'd managed to salvage parts from one device to add to the other. Finally, no more than an hour ago, she'd managed to generate a energy beam from the salvaged device. Weak and ineffectual at first, with concentrated mental effort, her new creation effectively burned a hole in a hidden corner of the cell.

It was a start.

She had a weapon. Now she needed a plan.

Her jerry-rigged hand device would only work in up close situations, one on one. How she'd manage to get by a half dozen Jaffa she still had no idea. Then, there was Jack. In his current condition, he'd be unable to offer any assistance whatsoever. Moreover, she knew he'd be unable to leave the cell under his own power.

She needed help; she needed someone to fight by her side.

OoOoOO

As her vigil continued, Sam received an unexpected visitor.

A petite dark haired young woman with blue grey eyes, Sam had seen her briefly several times during her captivity. She'd entered the cell carrying food, clothing or other supplies, always accompanied by one or more Jaffa. Always she remained silent for the few moments it took to leave the items she'd brought. Still each time, Sam had managed to make eye contact, albeit briefly. She'd wondered who she was, what her role was in Ba'al tiny, self-contained kingdom.

This time the small figure entered the cell alone. In her arms she carried two new silk outfits, obviously for Sam. Dressed in her own simple golden tunic, the woman's long dark hair hung free, falling over her shoulders, nearly reaching her waist. She was pale, but her facial features were beautiful. As Sam looked more closely, she realized the girl was Enkaran, a very young Enkaran.

Once she'd laid the clothing on the bed, the visitor smiled wanly at Sam. Then to Sam's great surprise, she sat down. For the first time, Sam heard her voice.

"My name is Miara," she said. "I have been ordered by my Lord Ba'al to instruct you in your 'purpose'."

_My purpose? S_am thought. _I_ _don't think I'm going to like this.I know I'm not going to like this._

"My name is Samantha," she said aloud. Even now Sam knew she was more than a "purpose" and she intended to make that much clear to Ba'al servant.

"I know," Miara said. "You are the chosen of my Lord."

Sam recoiled from the meaning of those words.

"And you, what is your 'purpose'?" Sam asked.

"I am Miara, lotar of Ba'al."

Sam's curiosity was peaked. This girl couldn't be more than a teenager.

"How long have you been lotar?" Sam asked.

"I have been in my lord's service for six months," she said. "Since the day he returned to Enkara."

_After he was separated from his empire and most of his servants, _Sam reflected_. This child's a last minute replacement for a loyal personal servant Ba'al lost in one of his battles. He kidnapped her from Enkara._

"So you are Enkaran?"

"Yes," Miara said flatly.

Sam couldn't miss the air of sadness that surrounded this girl. It was worse with the mention of her Homeworld. Then it occurred to Sam that Miara must be feeling the physical effects of removal from the specialized atmosphere of her home planet. Sure enough, as she looked more closely, Sam noticed the beginnings of the diaphenous filmy substance forming over the girl's eyes, the early sign of blindness often suffered by her people whenever they transferred to a hostile environment.

"He forced you to come with him, didn't he?" Sam said to the girl.

Miara looked at Sam wistfully. For a long moment she kept silent, unsure of what to say.

"I do what serves my Lord," she said simply. "Soon, you must do the same. When you are ready to serve, perhaps he will let me return to my people."

_So that's what he's told her, _Sam thought_. She thinks there's a way out of this. She thinks I'm her ticket home._

"So you want to go home," Sam stated. _If she wants to go home, she might be willing to help._

"Yes," Miara answered. "I want to return to my family, to Enkara."

Sam's heart went out to this girl. She wasn't at all what she expected of Ba'al's lotar. Miara was a frightened, intimidated girl who saw Sam as her replacement. She was Ba'al's victim too.

"Alright," Sam said. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Miara smiled gently. She looked relieved.

"My Lord has chosen you as his new Queen," the girl said. "And he wants a new host."

"I know," Sam said, "my husband."

Miara looked at Sam, clearly puzzled.

"But you do not want it?" the girl said.

"No, I don't."

"My Lord tells me it is a great honor," Miara said.

Sam looked at her with compassion. She didn't know, not really. She couldn't.

"And you believe him?"

The girl remained silent.

Sam continued. "What your master offers is slavery. It is worse than death."

Miara's face fell. "Then you do not want it."

"No, I don't."

"But your husband, my Lord says he will die if you do not accept the gift that is offered."

Sam took a deep breath. She knew that all too well. And she also knew Jack's wishes.

"My husband would rather die than become a host," Sam stated with certainty.

"He is close to death," Miara said.

"You've seen him?"

Miara bowed her head slowly, then looked up, finally meeting Sam's eyes directly.

"Yes, just before I came here."

Sam waited.

"He is near death, very weak. My master says he will not last much longer."

Sam grimaced.

"And yet …" Miara began.

"And yet, we don't want his _'gift',_" Sam completed the thought defiantly.

"The time is coming when my Lord will force the gift upon both of you," Miara said solemnly.

"I know." Sam had known all along Ba'al would take the decision out of her hands sooner or later. If Ba'al were determined to take Jack, the point of no return was coming soon.

"Then you will be expected to care for him as a Queen and as a wife. He believes that since he will be in the body of your husband, this will be easier for you."

Sam sat immobile, studying the young girl's reaction. There was so much she wanted to tell this girl, to warn her. But there was always the possibility they were being observed, a possibility Ba'al himself was listening. _How much could Ba'al trust this new servant, after so short a time_? For all she knew, Miara's sympathetic presentation could be another trick. So Sam settled for a simple statement of fact.

"If Ba'al takes possession of my husband's body, it will be a nightmare for both of us," Sam said. "He will no longer be the man I love."

Miara's eyes widened, but she sat silently, her back facing the camera.

"But …but ... if you don't ..." the girl stammered. Sam could see the moisture gathering in Miara's eyes, threatening to fall.

"You're afraid he won't let you go home," Sam said. "If I don't cooperate, you're afraid he'll make you stay."

The girl nodded. Sam got up, closed the distance between her and moved to sit next to Miara.

"Maybe there is a way we can help each other," she whispered.

TBC

* * *

Please review!


	18. Chapter 18 Help On Two Fronts

Chapter 18: Help on Two Fronts

On Enkara, Daniel waited impatiently.

As soon as he'd returned from the SGC, Daniel used the Gadmeer communications device he'd been given to call Leah. Unfortunately, she seemed to be taking her time getting back to him. Despite his best intentions to stay positive, his mind became clouded with worst case scenarios. Perhaps the Gadmeer had decided not to help after all. Or maybe Jack and Sam were already dead. Or …

Hedrezar, Jaylin and the others did their best to keep their frustrated human guest grounded and hopeful. They regaled him with stories of the Enkaran homeworld, their gratitude to SG1 and their regret over what had happened to the O'Neills. Among the stories they told were stories of their friend Lotan, the one who was lost to them once the Goa'uld arrived. It seemed they wanted him back even more than the Gadmeer did.

"Lotan was a good man, Daniel," Hedrezar said. "He was one of us."

"Made in the image of the Enkarans," Daniel replied.

"He was … _is_ Enkaran," Hedrezar clarified.

At the moment, Daniel was fixated with precision and persisted, more out of his own frustration than anything else.

"Actually Lotan was the artificial intelligence of the Gadmeer vessel," he said, wincing as he heard himself attempting to correct Hedrezar's well meant comment.

"I do not understand what you say, Daniel," Hedrezar protested. "But Lotan was as Enkaran as I."

"But he wasn't flesh and blood."

"Of course he was," she insisted, "When we got sick, so did he. Lotan was near death during the last illness that plagued our village. When he was injured he bled. And he fathered a child."

"What?" Daniel could feel his eyes widen and his mouth fall open at that final revelation.

"He has a small child, a son, not quite a year old," Hedrezar said. "The child lives with his mother in a village a day's journey from us. They went into hiding once Lotan was taken by the Goa'uld."

"Wow … I didn't think…"

"Now you know why we must have Lotan returned to us," Hedrezar insisted. "He has a family waiting for him."

OoOoOo

Before Daniel could obtain much more information about Lotan, Leah responded to his call, or rather beamed him aboard her ship with no warning whatsoever.

"Hello, Daniel," she said. "It is good to hear from you again."

Daniel took in his surroundings and absorbed her words.

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "Perhaps we can spend more time together looking for our friends."

Leah smiled pleasantly.

"Then you've found the Tok'ra for whom you've been searching."

"No, not yet," Daniel admitted.

"Then we will wait," she said.

Daniel took a deep breath. Her agreement would have been far too easy.

"We could go ourselves you know, we only need the location," Daniel said. "We'll do our best to avoid harming Lotan."

"That is not satisfactory, Daniel," Leah replied.

If he'd had any doubt earlier, Daniel now understood Leah was no innocent conquest to be led astray by his charms.

"I see," he said.

"Do not fear," Leah continued, sensing his discouragement. "I have news that will cheer us both. We have been in communication with Lotan on more than one occasion since you and I last spoke."

"You have?"

"Yes," she said. "We have managed to override the parasite's control for a few moments at a time. It has been enough for Lotan to assure us your friends are still alive."

"That's great," Daniel said. "It's the best news I've heard in weeks. But how…"

"The Gadmeer have a neural link with Lotan, much as they do with me."

"Of course," Daniel said. "Your brains are extensions of the ship's computer core."

"You think we are robots?" To Daniel's surprise, she looked offended at the thought.

"Well … actually …"

"We are both much more than that."

Daniel looked at Leah with new eyes. The long auburn hair, the clear hazel eyes, the timber of her voice, they were different. Still, once again, as on the planet, Daniel was drawn to her. She was familiar to him.

"Is there something wrong?" Leah inquired as her guest continued to stare a hole through her.

"No … no," Daniel said. "It's just you remind me of someone." He paused, looked away for a moment. "You look like Sam," he said finally. "Different hair, different eyes, but something about you …"

"Yes," Leah confirmed, "… made in her image."

"That's amazing!"

Leah smiled at the naivete of his wonder.

"Are you familiar with cloning technology?" she asked.

"Yes," Daniel said. "My people have attempted it. And we've worked closely with one race that used it frequently, without very good results I'm afraid."

"The Gadmeer have perfected the technique," Leah said proudly. "That said, they use it only in very special circumstances. It has been relegated to situations such as this where an appropriate representative to an alien species is required. Both Lotan and I are clones, highly advanced, with independent personalities, memories, even in some regard, appearances, made that way in order to avoid complications for our progenitors."

"You're clones?"

Leah smiled. And her smile was familiar.

OoOoOo

On Rahalla, the Grand Council agreed to see the newly arrived Taur'i representatives.

Natal was not surprised Teal'c had called for reinforcements. General Landry and Colonel Mitchell no doubt believed they could change the Grand Council's ruling. As High Councilor, Natal knew that although he must grant his allies an audience, he was under no obligation to acquiesce to their demands.

So it was that after an hour of rather heated arguments, the fruitless discussion was about to come to an end. That was before both sides were surprised by the arrival of a tall lanky young man with short cropped blond hair.

He had not been invited. In fact, he had never seen the inside of the Council chamber before today. But he had heard of the boon asked by the Jaffa and his Taur'i friends. He had heard about the Taur'i warriors who had been captured.

"I will go," the newcomer announced. His voice was small and breathy, barely more than a whisper, certainly the voice of a host, a young one at that. He couldn't have been more than twenty-one years of age. Teal'c couldn't recall seeing a Tok'ra host so young; he wondered what must have happened to the boy to make him willing to accept such a life.

"No, you are needed here," Natal responded with little delay. The High Councilor seemed to take the young Tok'ra's unexpected behavior in stride, as if he had anticipated something of the sort.

"Needed? For what?" It was an unexpectedly strong, booming voice that now came from the young man's form. Clearly it was that of the symbiote. And it was not happy with the High Councilor's challenge.

"Good of you to speak with us, Rashan," Natal greeted his insolent subject. "It seems you allow your young host far too much control these days."

The reply was quick and strident.

"Please do not forget, Natal," Rashan responded, "ours is an equal relationship with our hosts. And as my host grows and matures, he is coming into his own. In this case, he is right in wanting to go with these." Rashan held out his arm to the Taur'i delegation. "We owe them our help."

"Is that so?" Natal questioned.

"It is," was the soft but steady reply of Rashan's host. "I will not assume to speak for all the Tok'ra. That is your role Natal," he said. "My role is to do what I can to help these people.

"I owe Jack O'Neill my life. I remember him as the human father I never had. In spite of my strange origins, he treated me with care, as a human child. If he had not sent me with Selmak and his host, Jacob Carter, I would have died long ago, a sick, fearful child. I would never have blended with Rashan.

"I will do everything in my power to help Jack O'Neill and Jacob Carter's daughter. I owe them everything."

As Rashan's unassuming host spoke of the debt he owed, Teal'c struggled to put the pieces together. He should know him. He should know the story. He must have been there. He was sure he was. And after a brief moment he knew … the Reetou …

"I remember you," Teal'c proclaimed. "You're the boy O'Neill called 'Charlie'."

The young Tok'ra smiled widely.

"You are correct, Teal'c," he said. "I am glad you did not forget me."

"Teal'c?" Hank Landry questioned. Mitchell looked equally puzzled, but had the good sense for once to keep quiet.

"Someone we know," Teal'c answered simply. "Charlie was nine or ten years old when he came to the SGC. He was dying. Jacob Carter took him to become a Tok'ra."

"Yes," Charlie said, confirming Teal'c's recollections. "And I have grown up here. My symbiote, Rashan, has mentored me these ten years. He is extraordinarily wise and accomplished. He is a scientist of great value among our people and has taught me much. With his help, I am quite capable of performing the extraction procedure."

Natal had kept silence for the short exchange of information. But he could wait no longer.

"You cannot be spared," Natal said. "You are the youngest, our future. We cannot afford to risk you."

Charlie bowed his head. When he raised it again, Rashan was in control.

"We can't afford _not_ to risk it," Rashan proclaimed. "We must teach him what it is to be Tok'ra! We do not cower in our dens, behind our servants, as did the Goa'uld. We do not work for our own aggrandizement. We use our abilities to be of assistance to others, to share what we have and to learn from other cultures. This is what Charlie must learn. This is what he _wants_ to learn. And I intend to teach him."

Teal'c, Hank Landry and Cam Mitchell looked on in amazement. Their argument had been won for them. Charlie/Rashan would be traveling with them aboard the Gadmeer ship. They were one step closer to bringing their people home.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Glad you're still reading. Please review.


	19. Chapter 19 Jack

Chapter 19 Jack

The two towering Jaffa pulled his broken body through the hallway leading back to the cell he'd shared with Sam for god knows how long. He tried to open his eyes when they arrived, tried to catch a glimpse of Sam, but he couldn't. He simply didn't have the strength. He wanted to call out to her, ask for some reassurance that she was unharmed. But he couldn't do that either. It was all he could do to keep breathing.

With uncharacteristic gentleness, he felt the guards lift him onto the bed. Ba'al probably told them not to damage the merchandise anymore than it already was, he reflected. The softness of the bed was welcoming, comforting in a strange way, but nothing compared to the sound of Sam's sweet voice as she plaintively whispered his name. He could feel her take his hand in hers, but he hadn't the strength to move his own fingers to let her know he was still with her.

It wasn't right. It simply wasn't right. The injustice of it all kept reverberating in Jack's addled mind. He couldn't help her. He'd left her alone to find a way out of this. He was her husband, sworn to protect her. As much as he'd grown, matured, come to see her as a more than competent soldier in her own right, Jack O'Neill wanted to defend his wife, not leave her alone to take care of him. But here he was flat on his back, useless, while she did her best to rescue them both. _Oh, Sam …_

Jack knew the final act was coming soon. Ba'al's taunts made it all too clear. The Goa'uld intended to take him as his new host within the next few days. He wondered what he was waiting for. If only he could die. If only Ba'al would make that one mistake, throw one knife a bit off target, pierce a vital organ. But the son-of a bitch wouldn't do it, he'd practiced too long. So it was up to Jack. How he wished he could will himself to die. Otherwise, it would fall to Sam to kill him. He'd made her promise. He knew it would kill her inside, but he didn't see another way out of this. He couldn't endure what Ba'al had planned for him. He wasn't that brave, that selfless. And he wouldn't be able to countenance the indignities that monster would heap on Sam once he had control of his body.

No, he couldn't let any of that happen. Sam couldn't let any of that happen.

But killing him was the farthest thing from her thoughts, from her instincts as the woman who loved him. Even now he could feel her by his side, whispering soft words of comfort, starting to wash away the bloody detritus left by Ba'al's latest beating. Her gentleness lulled him to a sense of peace he knew would not last. With his eyes closed and Sam's hands caressing his body as she tended his wounds, his mind began to let go of the horrors he knew were coming. He loved her so much. She was the woman he hoped would carry his child, the one he planned to grow old with, the one who meant the world to him. She was here, her hands on his body, her voice in his ear. He wanted nothing more than to reach for her, to pull her close in love, to hold her until the nightmare ended.

None of that was to be. The growing old, the welcoming of a child, the lovemaking, Jack knew none of it was ever to be. All of that was the dream. This, the torture, the misery and the endless worry for the woman he loved, this was reality. And the warrior lying helpless under his wife's soothing hands, he knew how to deal with reality. He only wished he could tell her one more time how much he loved her.

OoOoOo

"What a touching sight!" Ba'al exclaimed.

The Goa'uld entered the cell unannounced less than half an hour after Jack's return.

Sam was taken by surprise. She stopped what she was doing, put down the towels she was using to bathe Jack and covered him. Squeezing Jack's hand, more for her own benefit than his, she turned to face their captor, the creature she wanted to kill with her bare hands. Ba'al wasn't alone; standing behind him was Miara and a lone Jaffa guard.

"What do you want?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, my dear," Ba'al said snidely. "This is such a touching scene. I had to see it for myself. Soon, I will benefit from your endless devotion."

"I don't think so," Sam snapped, her face set like flint.

Ba'al smirked.

"It's pathetic really," he said. "Even without this little dalliance, it would have been this way eventually, you know. O'Neill is considerably older than you, Samantha. If you chose to stay with him, sooner or later you would have ended up caring for him like this. Takes away from the passion, does it not."

With all she knew about the Goa'uld, all the spiteful, self-serving cruelty she'd come to expect, Sam could take no more.

"Shut up, you evil bastard," she shouted. "You have _no idea_ what love it about, what real passion is."

He laughed. It was a low ominous sound. "Perhaps that is true," he admitted. Yet another reason for you to become my Queen; you will teach me about love, about passion. And I will gift you with many years of a vital, virile husband. A fair exchange I would say."

Sam cringed.

Ba'al turned toward Miara.

"Continue her preparations," he ordered. "Soon I will take my new host _and_ my Queen."

OoOoOo

Jack heard every word. Ba'al's threats, Sam's rebuke, he heard it all.

There was nothing he could do but pray for death. And pray that someone would come to save Sam.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20 Underway

_"Do not fear," Leah continued, sensing his discouragement. "I have news that will cheer us both. We have been in communication with Lotan on more than one occasion since you and I last spoke."_

_"You have?"_

_"Yes," she said. "We have managed to override the parasite's control for a few moments at a time. It has been enough for Lotan to assure us your friends are still alive."_

* * *

Chap 20: Underway

Daniel returned to Enkara with mixed feelings.

He'd learned a great deal in the few hours he'd spent on the Gadmeer ship. Most of it good news.

He'd found out Jack and Sam were still alive. He'd learned the Gadmeer were able to communicate with whatever was left of Lotan. What's more, to his surprise, he'd learned Lotan was, by some miracle, flesh and blood Enkaran. But none of that was bringing him any closer to getting his friends back. And there really wasn't a heck of a lot he could do besides wait. He hated waiting, almost as much as Jack did.

So when Hedrezar arrived at the small tent Daniel had started to call home, he was wearing himself out with nervous energy. And the few furnishings in the tent were all the worse for wear.

"She is back," the Enkaran leader announced.

"Leah?"

"Yes, the human from the ship," Hedrezar confirmed. "She wants to see you. She says you must come right away!"

Daniel didn't have to be asked twice. He was out of his small shelter in seconds. He arrived in the central square faster than he'd thought possible. Leah was there to meet him.

"Hi," he greeted the Gadmeer representative. Daniel was on edge, breathing heavily from his brisk jog to the meeting place.

"We must go now," Leah said without preamble. Then without further explanation, she turned her back and began to walk away assuming Daniel would simply follow her.

Daniel regarded her quizzically.

"What ... wait ... stop!" Daniel shouted. Without thinking he reached out, grabbing on to her arm hard enough to spin her around. He was determined to avoid transport back to the ship before Leah explained herself.

Leah was startled. She stared at him intently.

"Everything is about to change," she said impatiently. "Your friends are in grave danger within the next few days. We cannot wait!"

"Okay, I get it," Daniel said, "we'll be there. But what changed. I thought we had to wait for the Tok'ra?"

"We have been in contact with Lotan once again," Leah explained. "Our transmissions have been disturbing the parasite. Lotan tells us it has been feeling rather ill lately," Leah said. Daniel swore he detected a hint of smile on her face at the thought of the symbiote suffering.

"During our brief periods of interaction," Leah continued, "Lotan regains control, but he cannot maintain it long. Still, the parasite grows tired of such a troublesome host and plans to take a new one. When it does, Lotan will be killed.

"Tell your people to come now and board the ship".

"But I thought you needed …"

"We _must _go _now_ or they will all die," she reiterated. "The parasite is about to take a new host. Lotan believes it will be one of your friends."

_Not a chance in hell they'll let that happen_, Daniel thought.

SG3 and Colonel Reynolds had been deployed to Enkara shortly after the meeting with the IOA. At the moment, they were passing the time investigating ruins a couple clicks from the village, quite close to the Stargate. If he hadn't been so preoccupied Daniel would have been with them. The distracted archeologist knew they'd be ready to go on a moment's notice.

"Alright," Daniel said, "I'll get our people."

He proceeded to do just that.

"Colonel Reynolds," he said, speaking into his SGC radio, "this is Daniel Jackson. Come in please."

"Reynolds here," SG3's leader replied tersely.

"The Gadmeer representative wants to leave, now," Daniel said.

"We're on our way, Dr. Jackson," Reynolds answered. "We'll dial the gate on our way in and notify General Landry. Rendezvous at the central square at 1600 hours."

"Roger that."

Clicking off the radio, Daniel turned back to Leah.

"They're on their way," he said.

Leah nodded.

Daniel took the opportunity to press her for more answers.

"Will Lotan be able to help us?" he asked.

"That is unknown," Leah replied. "It will depend on the degree of control the parasite still has when we arrive."

"I see," Daniel said. And then, "how long will it take us to reach them?"

"Exactly twenty-three point five of your hours," she replied tensely, "once we are underway."

"So we have a good sized trip in front of us," Daniel said.

"Longer than I'd like," Leah said. "However, once we are there, we will have no difficulty pinpointing their location. We will be able to track Lotan while he still lives. In itself, that will give us an advantage."

"Good, that's a start," Daniel replied.

"Yes," she replied. "But not enough." Suddenly the calm, self assured human clone seemed agitated, shaking her head and starting to pace.

"How long before your friends arrive?" Leah asked in a surprisingly demanding voice.

"It's a thirty minute walk from the Gate," he answered.

"Too long," Leah said. "We will beam them aboard before we leave. Come."

With that Daniel and Leah instantaneously materialized onboard the Gadmeer vessel.

Reynolds and his team were aboard less than a minute later, looking more than a bit disconcerted by their unexpected transport. When they arrived, Teal'c, Vala, Cam Mitchell and a young Tok'ra were with them.

Daniel was glad to see them all. Glad but surprised. Things were looking up.

"Colonel Reynolds?"

"They were coming through the Gate when we got there," Reynolds replied.

"Hey, glad to see you too," Cam quipped. "By the way we convinced the Tok'ra."

Daniel nodded, just before he was very warmly greeted by a Vala style hug.

Yes, things were definitely looking up. And they were underway.

TBC

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A/N: Thanks to everyone still reading. Your reviews are encouraging as always. I know the chapter was short. Another will be up soon and will check in with Ba'al's captives.

Please review if you can!


	21. Chapter 21 Becoming Queen

_Ba'al turned toward Miara._

"_Continue her preparations," he ordered. "Soon I will take my new host __and__ my Queen."_

* * *

Chapter 21: Becoming Queen

Miara had experienced first hand the tyranny of her 'lord and master'.

She was frightened out of her mind when Ba'al pulled her away from her family on Enkara. Though it happened only six months ago, it seemed as though she'd been with him a lifetime.

He had her beaten at the beginning. Though he'd never laid a hand on her himself, that didn't stop the sadistic Goa'uld from spewing vile diatribes and causing massive emotional trauma with every personal encounter. In spite of it all, the kidnapped girl quickly became dependent on Ba'al for her very survival, seeing him as all powerful, perhaps even the god he portrayed himself to be. The result was Miara's quick conversion to what Ba'al believed was his loyal lotar. In his terminally narcissistic mind, there was no reason to suspect the meek, submissive woman he'd molded retained enough self will to ever cause him harm. Until recently, he was correct in his arrogant assumption. He had broken her spirit. She was his thoroughly brainwashed slave. Until recently…

Watching Ba'al's interactions with the O'Neills over the past few weeks affected Miara in profound and unexpected ways. She'd seen the results of his torture before, but this one, the one he planned to take as host, he bore it differently, refused to break. And his wife, the one Ba'al wanted as Queen, she seemed equally as strong.

Especially in Sam, Miara glimpsed the possibility that things could be different for her. Since their first conversation only a few days ago, Ba'al's lotar met with Sam on a daily basis. She liked her; her no nonsense yet compassionate stance reminded her of her own mother. This woman wasn't giving into "the master's" demands for submission. Far from it; she was doing everything in her power to undermine him, all the while tenderly caring for her sorely injured husband. Sam's devotion to Jack told her all she needed to know about the inner workings of this particular captive. Miara had seen such love between her parents before she'd been so rudely ripped from them.

A naturally intelligent girl, Miara made it her business to get to know Sam, making sure their conversations wouldn't be overheard by Ba'al's eavesdropping devices. When they talked, she purposefully steered Sam to a corner of the cell she knew was a dead zone for the Goa'uld audio equipment. At other times, she cued Sam to keep her voice to a whisper. She quickly realized Sam needed no such reminders.

Occasionally, a small voice would whisper to her that she was betraying her "master", but Miara's voice was becoming stronger. She knew she could never betray the brave woman who was plotting against her "lord".

Now, in the aftermath of Ba'al's most recent visit, Miara watched as Sam crumbled physically and laid her head down over her husband's seemingly unconscious form. She was crying softly. As she walked closer, Miara could hear Sam whispering, but she couldn't make out the words.

Sam sat up as she felt Miara approach. She laid down Jack's hand tenderly, kissed him on the forehead and started to stand up. She was restrained from doing so as Jack's hand reached out and held her fast.

"Jack .."

Sam sat back down and leaned in towards him. His face was twisted in pain as he struggled to find the breath to speak.

"Do it," he stammered. For a moment, his rich brown eyes were wide open, locked with hers, demanding the impossible.

Sam's eyes filled with tears, she didn't need to ask what he meant.

"Do it," he repeated

"Don't worry, Sam replied, "I'll take care of you." As soon as Jack heard her words, he closed his eyes again and drifted off into unconsciousness.

_Goodbye_, Sam whispered silently. In her heart, she acknowledged the likelihood that they might never speak again.

If it came right down to it, Sam would kill Jack to prevent a blending with Ba'al. She knew he saw that as a fate worse than death. Causing his death would leave her dead as well, but it would hardly matter. For now she hoped and prayed for a Plan A that would work. If it did, he'd likely die anyway, but not by her hand.

"What is he's asking you to do?" Miara inquired. She was still standing just inside the door of the cell, right where Ba'al had left her.

"He wants me to take his life before Ba'al takes him as host," Sam said, her voice clogged with emotion, her eyes staring at the now unconscious man on the bed.

"I am sorry," Miara said softly.

Sam looked up into the eyes of this young woman. She was even younger than Cassie. They'd both experienced pain in their young lives, pain no child or young person should ever have to experience. Her heart went out to her.

"None of this is your fault, Miara," she said. "All three of us are victims."

"Yes, we are," Miara agreed.

Sam smiled gently at the girl.

"I will do whatever I can to help you," Miara volunteered. The girl looked away briefly, deep in thought, fighting her own fear. When she turned to face Sam once again, her face was brighter, more determined. She'd decided on a course of action. There would be no turning back.

"There is a part of the implantation ceremony I haven't told you about," she said.

Sam looked up and waited. _It couldn't get much worse_, she thought. _I might as well hear her out._

Miara continued.

"Once the symbiote has abandoned the discarded host, it is left to the lotar to carry it to the new host and place it in position for implantation. It is done this way so that the symbiote retains the energy required for the blending itself. Ba'al had told me it is even more necessary in this circumstance where he will be required to repair significant damage to your husband's body before he is an adequate host."

Sam took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and covered her face with her hands. This thing was going to happen. Unless she did what Jack asked, Ba'al was going to take Jack as a host. With difficulty she pulled herself together enough to voice the next question.

"How does that help us?"

Miara seemed perplexed. Surely she understood her meaning.

"He will, literally, be in my hands," she said.

All at once, Sam grasped what Miara was suggesting. The young lotar was willing to help, willing to betray the creature who believed he'd captured her spirit as well as her body.

"I'm not sure we can escape with our lives Miara," Sam said. "Even with your help, I don't see how we could make it out."

"But we can stop the creature from taking possession of your husband."

Sam couldn't help but notice how Miara no longer referred to Ba'al as "my lord".

She nodded, looking at the young woman intently, taking the measure of her determination and valor.

"Yes, I believe we could do that," Sam agreed. "You and I could put an end to Ba'al."

To Sam, it seemed as though Miara stood taller at the thought.

"It's likely we'll die for our trouble," Sam said, her eyes pleading with the girl to understand.

"I understand," Miara said softly. At that moment, her young face held an air of maturity far beyond her years.

_I hope you do_, Sam thought.

OoOoOo

Sam was once more alone with Jack. He'd lapsed back into a troubled sleep after reminding her of her deadly promise. There'd been no words of love during that brief period of wakefulness. Then again, for them, words were seldom needed.

Miara had left nearly an hour ago. Together, in whispered tones, and at least partially concealed from the cameras, the two desperate women had plotted strategy. All the while, Ba'al assumed Miara was dutifully preparing Sam for her role as Queen. His overconfidence would be his undoing, or so Sam hoped.

They had a plan.

If it succeeded, the plan she'd developed with Miara would end Ba'al's reign of terror for good. Beyond that, Sam was much less optimistic. Numbers were not on their side. Most likely, they would all die. Sparing a major miracle, she and Jack would be killed within minutes of the initial assault. Lotan was unlikely to survive the departure of the Ba'al symbiote at the implantation ceremony. And Miara, she too would meet certain death for what she was about to do.

Sam tried to reassure herself with memories of all the times SG1 had survived seemingly impossible odds. Right from the start, somehow her team had come through intact. Beginning with their escape from Apophis' dungeon on Chulak, they'd lived charmed lives. Every time Jack had gone missing, somehow she'd found him or he managed to find his way home. They were that good, they were lucky and they had their friends. They were all still alive. Maybe ... just maybe…with more than a little luck, they'd pull through this time as well.

Whatever happened, she rationalized, she and Jack, they'd lived their lives. And they'd finally had the opportunity to be together. It was too short a time and she wanted more, but at least they'd had their chance.

That was more than she could say for Miara. The lotar was barely seventeen-years-old when Ba'al dragged her into a life of servitude and incomprehensible horror. And now, their plan would most likely lead to her death. Sam had done her best to make sure she understood the risks. And the girl said she did, was willing to risk her life, knowing it meant almost certain death. She was brave.

But how could Miara possibly know what to expect? Was it right to ask her to participate in this? Of course not, but then again, none of this was "right". None of it was fair. If life was fair, Miara wouldn't have been taken by Ba'al, Jack wouldn't be hovering near death and Sam ... well, she wouldn't be struggling so hard with the despair that threatened to pull her under for good. Unfair or not, she had to try.

There was little choice.

They'd come through worse.

At least that's what she told herself.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm hoping to complete "Agony of Spirit" soon now. When it is completed, there will be a sequel. To tell you more would give it away! Hope you stay tuned!


	22. Chapter 22 Implantation

Chapter 22: Implantation

Suddenly, a sound startled her to wakefulness.

Sam had fallen asleep in her usual position. Sitting in the small wooden chair, pulled up to the side of the bed where Jack lay unconscious, she slept. Her head lay next to his, allowing her to feel the reassuring touch of his breath against her face. Her hand held his even in sleep.

She hadn't planned to fall asleep. Yet her fatigue had overtaken her. She guessed she hadn't slept more than two hours at a time since they'd been captured. It was a combination of habit, waking to take her shift at guard duty when off-world, and concern for Jack that kept fracturing her sleep. Truth was, she wished she could go without sleep altogether. When she woke she never knew what she would find. Here, there was no one to keep guard when she slept, no one to watch out for Jack. Tonight was a case in point.

As she opened her eyes, she could hear the familiar lock step of militaristic Jaffa marching towards the cell. She realized the sound was what had woken her. Fortunately, her training allowed her to snap to alertness. It was not a moment too soon.

The door swung open as of its own accord.

"Get up," barked the lead Jaffa. This was the one Sam had come to recognize as Ba'al's current First Prime. He was accompanied by two more, equally imposing Jaffa warriors. Walking behind all three was Miara.

"You have been summoned by Lord Ba'al for the implantation ceremony," the First Prime explained. "You will have thirty of your minutes to make ready. The lotar will assist you."

Sam stood up but didn't move from her station at Jack's side. The two Jaffa underlings approached, one moving to each side of the bed. They wanted Jack. But Sam continued to stand in the way.

"Out of the way," the First Prime commanded from his position by the door. When Sam refused to move, she was physically removed by the Jaffa. She'd have liked nothing more than to fight all three of them, but her momentary satisfaction would leave Jack defenseless. So she did as she was told.

Reluctantly standing aside, Sam watched while the burly Jaffa picked up her unconscious husband and started dragging him toward the door. His arms shoved over the shoulders of the two larger men, Jack made no sound or indication of alertness. He'd been completely unresponsive the past few hours. Sam suspected he'd lapsed into a coma sometime during the night. Even if Ba'al succeeded in his plan to take Jack as a host, he'd have his work cut out for him when it came to restoring him to health. But Sam wasn't about to give Ba'al that chance. If she got Jack out of here, when she got Jack out of here, she'd find a more conventional way to make him well again.

For now, Sam wanted information. And she intended to get it.

"Where are you taking him?" she demanded.

"We will prepare him for the implantation," the First Prime replied coldly. "Do not worry; you will be there to see him taken by your lord."

_This is it_, Sam thought.

The Jaffa departed, taking Jack with them.

Miara remained behind. Her eyes reflected the sorrow in Sam's heart. But mixed with the sadness was the same determination Sam felt coursing through her veins. Even if their efforts were in vain, the women would do everything in their power to survive.

In her arms, Miara held a white silk dress. It was long sleeved; both the sleeves and bodice encrusted with tiny jewels Sam suspected were diamonds. It literally sparkled in Miara's arms. To Sam's way of thinking, the beauty of the dress was so out of place in this horrid scene of misery. Worse yet, wearing the elaborate outfit would make it exceedingly difficult to fight effectively when the time came.

"For me, I assume," Sam said with resignation.

"Yes, it is your wedding dress I suppose," Miara replied. "Once the implantation is complete, Ba'al will become your husband."

Miara was especially mindful of the surveillance devices in the room today. And so she whispered conspiratorially.

"But we both know that will never happen," she said. And as she handed Sam her gown, Miara pulled back the top layer of her own robes. The item concealed within made Sam's breath hitch.

"How …" Sam was pleasantly dumbfounded. Miara had a zat secured under her belt.

"I have my ways," the girl said cryptically.

"Do you know how to use it?" Sam asked.

Miara smiled. To Sam's surprise it was the determined smirk of a warrior more than ready for battle. There was no fear in the girl's eyes.

_At least now we have two weapons, _Sam thought. As she slipped on the long, off the shoulders gown that was provided for her, she was relieved and surprised to find pockets. She slipped the crystal weapon in one. Hidden within the voluminous skirt, it would never be noticed until it was too late. She would have preferred to have the zat at her disposal. But exchanging weapons was out of the question; Miara would be unable to make the Goa'uld crystals work. Sam would have to make the best of what she had. Her enemy would have to be close and his death would be painful.

"You look beautiful," Miara said as she saw Sam in the stunning gown.

Neither woman felt particularly beautiful. But they knew what they had to do.

OoOoOo

"It is time!'

The Jaffa had returned and would tolerate no further delays.

It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes since they'd taken Jack. _Ba'al must be impatient_, Sam thought.

The Jaffa led Sam and Miara to a large, opulently decorated room, at least twice the size of the quarters where Ba'al had met with Sam in the past. Decked out in shades of burgundy and dripping with gold furnishings, the area was vintage Goa'uld in the audacious nature of its design. For a being that had lost so much, Ba'al apparently retained more than enough wealth to furnish this place in the garish style to which he was accustomed.

It was a long room, more of a hall in fact. At the far end were two gold encrusted chairs, thrones really, placed side by side and standing out some two feet from the wall. Off to the far side of each chair, set against a wall, was a golden chaise. The one on the right was already occupied. There, atop a golden coverlet, Jack lay unmoving; his breathing more shallow than Sam had seen before. He lay on his left side, turned away from the center of the room, in position for the implantation. Someone had redressed him. In place of the plain grey jumpsuit Sam had dressed him in yesterday, he now wore a bright multicolored robe reminiscent of Goa'uld royalty. For a moment Sam worried that the Jaffa had misspoken, perhaps the implantation had already occurred.

But then Lotan/Ba'al made his appearance. He strode into the room as if he ruled the world. It was the moment he'd been waiting for. He was anxious to rid himself of the troublesome Enkaran host. His head had been pounding most of the past week as he fought off the transmissions of the Gadmeer. He knew there were moments he could not account for, moments where his host had taken control. But he refused to believe that any lasting damage had been done. Still he'd had enough of this weak, non-descript body and the tiny being that fought him for it. Jack O'Neill, he would be another thing altogether. Ba'al was looking forward to taking him, to witnessing his complete capitulation.

Everyone was at their assigned position for the ceremony. Sam stood at the foot of Jack's bed. Miara stood at the foot of the bed where Lotan would soon lie. The two were separated by a scant ten feet. On the opposite end of the room, lined up at attention, were six of Ba'al's loyal Jaffa, selected from the rest to bear witness. Sam counted only two staff weapons among the group and wondered how many zats or other weapons were concealed beneath the ceremonial robes these men wore. From the intel she'd gathered since she'd been here, she guessed there were no more than six to eight additional Jaffa in the entire complex. _We've had worse odds_, she tried to tell herself.

"We will begin," Ba'al intoned. Sam's tormentor walked to the center of the room and scanned the faces of his audience. Then he royally proclaimed his intent.

"We have chosen a new host. What we do today is a time honored ceremony. In the next few moments we will abandon this body." Ba'al paused to indicate Lotan's form. Within moments he will die of the poison left within him. My faithful lotar will carry us to the new host and we will grace him with our presence."

Purposefully, Ba'al walked over to Sam. His eyes caressed her body lustfully. _Not long now, my dear,_ he thought, _not long_. In his deluded state, he attempted to take her hand in his, but she pulled away.

"This woman will be our queen," Ba'al announced proudly to the assemblage. "She is a headstrong warrior. But she will be ours." Then sotto voice to Sam, "I had so hoped this would be your choice, but I can wait no longer for you to come to your senses and save your pathetic husband. When I am in him," he said slowly and deliberately, raking her with his eyes, "you will yearn for my touch."

"No, I won't," Sam spat simply enough.

Ba'al laughed.

"No matter," he said dismissively. Then stepping away from Sam and walking back to the center of the room, he pronounced his readiness.

"Attend, it is time to begin!"

Sam's eyes caught Miara's. The girl was ready. There was fear in her eyes, but the intensity of her gaze was unwavering. She knew what she had to do and she knew the price. Her reward would be the freedom of her spirit. Even if her body died, she knew her spirit would be free. Sam knew the same was true for her and Jack. That freedom might well be the most she could hope for.

One of the Jaffa moved to sit behind a single large drum. Picking up a huge mallet he began to beat a steady rhythm of sound, the low haunting tone matching the foreboding Sam already felt.

Lotan/Ba'al silently approached the room's second chaise. The long recumbent chair was pushed up against the wall opposite Jack. While Miara moved to take her position at the side of the bed, Lotan lay down and prepared himself. He became unnaturally still. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed brightly, but only for a moment. With a heart rending moan, Lotan's eyes rolled back in his head. The panic Sam saw on his face reminded her of the horror Jack felt at the very idea of implantation. But this time, the symbiote wormed its way _out_, slowly, painfully. She was certain Lotan felt every inch of the creature's withdrawal from his body. She was equally certain that Ba'al planned it that way.

Standing at the side of Lotan's chaise, Miara dutifully began to play her role. As the Ba'al symbiote emerged, she lifted it with both hands, her sworn duty to protect the creature from all injury during its most vulnerable moments. Gradually Miara raised the symbiote up over her head to the silent affirmation of the assembled Jaffa. As a sign of worship and subjugation, all six Jaffa had fallen to their knees, their weapons at their sides. The room was preternaturally silent, as even the sound of the drum had stopped. Except for the ever vigilant First Prime, the eyes of the other Jaffa were cast down. But Ba'al's First tracked the lotar carefully with his eyes.

Carefully holding the symbiote aloft, her arms fully outstretched, Miara walked the length of the room. It was tradition to display the god before his subjects. She could feel the First's eyes on her, piercing her like daggers. _He cannot read my mind, _she told herself_. He does not know what I intend to do._

Miara slowly walked back to the front of the room. She came to stand directly in front of Sam. The ceremony called for Sam to step aside and allow the lotar to place Ba'al on the chaise next to Jack. But that's not what the women had planned.

The Ba'al symbiote lay helpless and trusting in Miara's hands. The Enkaran girl had played her role beautifully to this point. As faithful lotar, she'd paraded the symbiote before his worshippers with grace. Little did they know she was simply waiting, biding her time.

Finally Miara looked up and made eye contact with Sam. Their unspoken message was clear. It was time. Without further thought, Miara tightened her grip on the snake-like creature in her hands. Then she twisted with both hands, breaking the fragile Goa'uld spinal cord. It wasn't difficult, there was no resistance. The symbiote was taken by surprise. The Goa'uld shrieked. It was an ungodly sound, heralding as it did the symbiote's final attempt at survival. With the strength of its spiny, fearsome front quarters, it pulled itself from Miara's hands, falling to the floor, as luck would have it, directly at Sam's feet.

The Jaffa were already on their feet. But Sam was ready too. One more blow and it was the end of Ba'al. Sam had palmed the jerry-rigged hand device as soon as Miara began her ceremonial walk. The weapon was out and extended over the Ba'al symbiote as soon as the vile, already wounded predator hit the floor. And while a quick thinking Miara took out a threatening Jaffa with two shots of her zat, Sam's mind activated the hand device. With a single thought, the deadly device emitted a hideous beam of light aimed directly at the creature's head. As Sam knew it would, her target disintegrated on contact.

This time, Ba'al really was dead.

And then all hell broke loose.

"He is betrayed!" the First Prime shouted. The shocked and furious Jaffa picked up his staff intent on vengeance. His first target was the traitorous lotar.

Miara jumped out of the line of fire at the last second. The shot fired by the Jaffa missed her by mere inches. Though trembling with fear, she instinctively crouched low and once more began to fire her zat. Amazingly, she took out one of the Jaffa with her first shot.

"Take cover!" Sam screamed at the startled girl. _Let's not make this easy on them_, she thought.

As Miara scrambled behind one of the throne chairs, two of the Jaffa closed in on Sam. They would punish this one until she prayed for death. It would not be quick.

"I want the Taur'i alive," the First ordered, his voice carrying above the others. "Surrender," he called to Sam and you and your husband will be allowed to live."

Sam had no intention of surrendering.

Sam pulled up the skirt of her gown and kicked one warrior's legs out from under him. He landed hard and stayed down. As the other came at her she turned the crystal on him. The man went limp as the beam quickly penetrated the bones of his skull.

By then the other Jaffa had regained his feet and was on her. She heard a staff weapon blast in the close confines of the room. Up close they were overkill, Jack had always said so, instruments of terror. Then she heard the zat. Miara had hit the Jaffa attacking her, shot him twice. Sam took up his zat and began firing at the remaining two Jaffa.

As she turned around, Sam caught a glimpse of Lotan. He'd stood up and was making his way to the center of the fighting, barreling into one of the Jaffa, knocking him off his feet as he fired at Sam and picking up the staff he dropped. Without hesitation, Lotan pointed the weapon at the head of the felled Jaffa.

"Stop where you are or I kill him now," Lotan shouted to the two remaining Jaffa in the room.

And they did. Both Jaffa looked at Lotan in amazement. After all, they'd been assured he would be no trouble.

Sam noted Lotan as well. She saw him from her crumbled position on the floor, just besides Jack's chaise. _There are three of us now,_ she thought tiredly. But there was little she could do to press any new found advantage. Instead, she winced at the overwhelming burning sensation in her left side. She'd been hit, and the pain was rapidly pulling her under.

As her vision darkened, Sam saw more Jaffa storming through the door, preparing to join the fight. _We gave it our best, Jack._

Then a blinding light filled the chamber.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Again many thanks for continuing to read.

Please push the button and send a review!


	23. Chapter 23 What Happens Next

_As her vision darkened, Sam saw more Jaffa storming through the door, preparing to join the fight. We gave it our best, Jack._

_Then a blinding light filled the chamber._

* * *

Chapter 23: What Happens Next

Moments earlier, aboard the Gadmeer vessel ...

"We are in position," Leah announced.

SG 3 and SG 1 had been suited up and ready to go for nearly an hour. Truth be told, they'd been ready much longer than that. It had been a long trip from the Enkaran homeworld. The past twenty-three hours spent in the sterile, barren environs of the Gadmeer ship had seemed endless. Sleep, though necessary, had been hard to come by. After all this time, being so close and yet so far was difficult for impatient types like Mitchell and well, everyone else. Finally, they knew the location of their missing team members. Any further delay in bringing them home felt intolerable. Now they stood in the embarkation area, itching to be deployed.

"It's about time," an irritable Cam Mitchell said. "We need to get down there."

"In a moment," Leah said. The Gadmeer's human clone continued to manipulate the controls on the panel in front of her. She looked up temporarily to meet Mitchell's eyes. "I'm reading several lifesigns in a confined area around Lotan," she explained, "Goa'uld, Human, Enkaran and the species you call Jaffa. Our calculations must be precise."

"Why not beam _our_ people _up_?" Vala asked. "Wouldn't it be easier?"

"Again, everyone is too close together and we will not tolerate having enemy combatants aboard this ship." Leah explained, pausing long enough to punch in more precise coordinates and listen to a last minute transmission.

"What message did you receive?" Teal'c inquired, speaking for the assembled rescue team.

"It is Lotan," Leah said with some amazement. "He is free. But there is a battle."

"Fine, then get us down there to help them!" Daniel insisted.

"We're ready," Leah said. "Please get in position."

OoOoOo

When the blinding light dissipated, SG 1 materialized inside the cell, fully armed and ready for a fight. Outside the cell, SG3 appeared, deftly deposited behind the second wave of Jaffa, courtesy of information provided by the now free Lotan and the Gadmeer sensors.

With their superior numbers and firepower, they managed to contain the situation in a matter of minutes. As they scanned the battle zone, it was clear casualties were high.

Jack was still unconscious on the chaise where the Jaffa had placed him.

Sam was on the floor with a staff weapon wound to her side, barely conscious.

Lotan was unresponsive, lying on the floor at the foot of the second chaise.

Miara was slowly emerging from behind the throne chair, unsure of these new arrivals. Miraculously, she was the only one not wounded.

By the time the shooting stopped, nine of Ba'als thirteen Jaffa were dead or seriously wounded. The others saw reason and surrendered to superior numbers. They were restrained while Lotan, Sam and Jack were made ready for transport.

"Sam!" Daniel shouted, running to her side and bending over her huddled form.

Hearing Daniel call her name momentarily roused Sam from her stupor. The pain in her side was staggering. But rescue was here.

"Jack ... get Jack..." Sam said, the effort of each word causing her side to throb in pain.

"Teal'c's got him," Daniel reassured her. "They want to beam us from outside this room, so we have to move you. Hang in there, Sam."

"Miara ...," she called weakly. She had to make sure the Enkaran who'd helped save them was safe as well.

"I'm here," the girl said, coming out from hiding when she heard Sam's voice.

"She's a friend, Daniel," Sam said. "She comes with us."

"Got it," Daniel said, looking up briefly to assess Miara, "now lay back and let us take care of you, please."

With that Daniel and Cam lifted her gently and brought her out of the hall. Sam, Jack and Lotan were now safely secured for transport.

With their wounded in place, the team signaled for beam out. A split second later they were welcomed aboard the Gadmeer ship.

OoOoOo

Leah was there to meet them when they returned.

The two SG teams had accomplished their mission. They'd extracted four captives. But three of them were in critical condition.

"They need medical care, now," Colonel Reynolds rightly stated.

"Isn't there a Stargate on this planet?" Cam asked. "They're not going to survive the trip to Earth."

"Our sensors show no such transportation device here," Leah answered. All the while she spoke, she stood behind a control panel "And from what you tell me of your world, I doubt an alien vessel such as ours would be welcome there. We will return to Enkaran and you can leave through that Stargate."

While Leah spoke, Daniel looked around to see Charlie hunched over Sam, a healing device in his hand.

"That's a day's journey back to Enkara," Cam protested. "They need help now."

Daniel nudged Cam's shoulder, indicating what was happening with Sam. At the same time, a large slab of metal emerged from the base of the control panel Leah had been working at. It opened to reveal what appeared to be a medical pod.

"This is one of our bio beds," Leah said. "Unfortunately, only one has been successfully adapted to suit the needs of your species. I believe you should place your General here. It will heal and sustain him until such time as you return to your planet."

Teal'c and Mitchell needed no more encouragement. As soon as Jack was laid on the bed, a translucent canopy closed over him. Instantaneously tubing of some sort inserted itself into his arm. Monitoring devices began to glow.

Daniel looked at Leah.

"Our technology is able to both diagnose and treat injuries while inducing a short term healing stasis," she said. "It will successfully rehydrate him, provide nourishment and heal internal injuries. He is, as you say, 'in good hands.'"

"What about Sam?"

"I should be able to adequately treat her wounds with the healing device," Charlie replied from his position. As he spoke he was doing exactly that.

"Where is Lotan?" Teal'c asked.

"The Tok'ra has provided us with an antidote to the symbiote poison Ba'al injected," Leah supplied. "It is being administered as we speak."

"Okay," Daniel said. He walked over to where Charlie had been working on with Sam. To Daniel's delight the external wound had been healed. But Sam was still unconscious.

"She will awaken soon," Charlie assured him. The young man looked dejected, hardly what Daniel expected if the process had been successful.

"What's wrong?"

"She will recover," Charlie assured him. "Still, she will need to mourn."

OoOoOo

A day later, all the SGC personal had returned to Earth through the Enkaran Gate. With the permission of General Landry and his superiors, Charlie had accompanied them in hopes of reestablishing an understanding of sorts with the Tok'ra. And Leah, well, since she was human, and a valuable connection to advanced Gadmeer technology, she was welcomed through the Gate as well.

Both Jack and Sam were admitted directly to the infirmary upon their arrival. Jack, though significantly healed thanks to the Gadmeer medical pod, remained sedated in hopes of allowing further healing to take place.

He and Sam shared one of the isolation rooms and were under direct observation of the medical staff almost constantly.

Now as an unexpected visitor approached, Sam lay on her side, watching her husband sleep. He looked better, he was going to come through this and she was grateful. She couldn't wait for him to open his eyes.

So she was startled when a quite different voice called from the other side of the room.

'Hi," he said simply.

Sam rolled to her back and made to sit up. Despite the healing that had taken place, her side was still tender and she groaned with the exertion.

"Hi," Sam answered. A bit groggy from the sedation the CMO had insisted on, she blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the vaguely familiar figure before her.

"You're the Tok'ra who helped me, aren't you?"

"Yes," he answered. "My name is Charlie."

Since Charlie wasn't exactly a typical Tok'ra name, it didn't take Sam long to make the necessary connections.

"Charlie... the little boy... the Reetou," she stammered.

He nodded.

"I regret I could not save the other," Charlie said solemnly.

"Other?"

He looked at her kindly.

"There was another life within you."

Sam opened her mother to speak, but couldn't find the words. Dr. Lam hadn't said anything about ... then again she hadn't been awake enough for a thorough review of her condition.

"I was …?" Sam suggested, not wanting to speak the word.

Charlie nodded again.

"It was too small, and it was already gone."

Sam understood all too well. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes against the unexpected grief.

She couldn't know that the patient in the next bed, still seemingingly unconscious, had heard the same news.

TBC

* * *

A/N: One more chapter to finish this particular story.

My apologies to those of you who really wanted to see Jack infested by Ba'al. Couldn't bring myself to do it. I've read one or two of those stories. Ouch! (There are things I'll do to the characters and things that I won't.)

Anyway, rest assured the sequel will be quite Jack centric and focus on his emotional recovery. Despite the fact he wasn't Goa'ulded, there will be much he needs to deal with and, by extension, lots of challenges for Sam as well.


	24. Chapter 24 Finale

_"It was too small, and it was already gone."_

_Sam understood all too well. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes against the unexpected grief._

_She couldn't know that the patient in the next bed, still seemingly unconscious, had heard the same news._

* * *

Chapter 24: Finale

He clung to her…desperately.

It had been one hell of a past few weeks.

They'd been tortured, captured before. But Sam wasn't sure she'd ever seen him like this. This was something new.

Clingy, insecure, reluctant to let her out of his sight…

That wasn't Jack.

Overly solicitous, hesitant, unsure of himself…

That wasn't Jack O'Neill, not the man she'd known for so many years.

And depressed...

He _was _depressed, no question about it.

Of course, he'd never admit it. Maybe it was to be expected after what he'd been through.

This was the first time he'd been allowed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. She'd sat down next to him and now her head was cushioned against his chest as he held her in a warm embrace. Feeling the tension in his body, Sam tilted her head up to see his face. Without even thinking, she smiled. It was that warm, all encompassing smile that usually made Jack's head swim and his heart skip a few beats. But today, Sam knew it wasn't having the full effect.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jack pulled back a bit and held her at arms' length, studying her carefully.

"It's nothing," he said. "Getting used to being back, I suppose."

Sam reached up with her right hand to gently touch then caress his cheek. Jack didn't move, simply sat still and continued to look at her.

"Me too," she said. "This _is_ only our third day back."

"Yeah," Jack said. "And yesterday was the first they let me wake up."

"Dr. Lam wanted to give you time to heal," Sam said.

"Right." Though he gave the correct response, his heart wasn't in it.

Jack pulled away, got up and walked across the small isolation room where he was still confined. Sam had been released yesterday, but refused to leave.

"Sam," he started, his voice low and throaty, "I'm getting used to being alive again. More importantly, reassuring myself you're alright. I heard everything you know."

Sam looked at him for a moment. She wasn't sure what he was saying. _It couldn't be. He was unconscious, in a coma for all of it. Wasn't he?_

"The fight in the throne room," she said, "you heard it?"

"Yeah," he said, "all of it."

"I didn't know," Sam said. She didn't know what to think. Being helpless during a battle wouldn't be a pleasant experience for her husband. In fact, it would be the worst kind of torture.

"I think Ba'al decided to have a little more fun with me," Jack said sadly. His voice was flat, resigned. "I woke up right after the Jaffa took me. They gave me some drugs. At first, I thought they wanted to put me back to sleep again, but I was wide awake through that brilliant escape attempt of yours. Heard everything, but I couldn't move a muscle, couldn't help you."

Sam saw the sadness in his eyes. Deliberately, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. Her eyes found and held his.

"We made it," Sam said softly.

"But you were hurt," he said. Jack had decided not to reveal his knowledge of the miscarriage. He was waiting to see when Sam would tell him.

"I know," she said. "But I'm fine now. Good enough to get out of here before you."

At that, Jack did smile, smirk at least.

"That you did," he said.

"And very relieved you're still here with me," she said. "I thought I was going to lose you."

Now the tears that had been threatening began to fall.

"Please don't cry," he said. His voice was small and tentative. For a moment, Sam heard Jack O'Neill pleading with her, as if her tears would trigger his own and he couldn't risk it. She had to admit, his sudden vulnerability scared her. It wasn't the time to tell him about the miscarriage and she'd made the doctors promise to leave it to her. She was determined not to add to his burden. The time would come when he needed to know, but not now.

While they were still lost in each others eyes and in their own thoughts, Daniel came bursting into the room in his usual exuberant fashion. The doors swung open before him with a loud swoosh, grabbing their attention.

"Daniel," Sam said, surprised to see him.

"I know, I was supposed to go home, get some sleep," he said apologetically, "but I knew the two of you would want to hear about everybody."

"Everybody?" Jack queried.

"Well the Enkarans at least," Daniel clarified.

Jack looked at Sam. She nodded, realizing Jack didn't even know about Miara beside what she'd told him.

"It's a happy scene back there," Daniel said. "I stayed on Enkara long enough to be sure Lotan and Miara were settled. You should see the Enkarans. They're delighted."

"They're glad to have Lotan and Miara back," Sam stated with surety.

"Absolutely, Daniel said. "Did you know Lotan had a family?"

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, a wife and daughter," Daniel said. "They were sure he was gone for good."

"And Miara?"

"She went home with her parents," Daniel said with a smile. "She asked me to be sure to thank you, Sam."

"It sounds like we should be thanking her," Jack said.

Sam nodded. "I don't think we could have made it without her," she said.

"Doctor Jackson, may I could in?" A new, unfamiliar voice called from the doorway.

"Of course," Daniel said. "It's time Jack met you, now he's awake."

"Jack O'Neill, this is someone we all knew a long time ago," Daniel said. "Charlie."

Jack's eyes widened. He studied the young Tok'ra's face. It certainly didn't resemble the sickly boy he'd nurtured during that wild confrontation with the Ree'tou. But Sam had told him how Charlie had helped, the role he'd played in their rescue. And of course, Jack had overheard him talking to Sam in the infirmary only two days ago.

"Do you remember me, Jack?" Charlie asked with the openness of a child.

"Of course I do," Jack said, with as much enthusiasm as he'd mustered for anything since regaining consciousness. "But look at you; you're taller than I am. How did that happen?"

Charlie smiled.

"I believe it is what you call 'growing up', Jack."

OoOoOo

Not long after this, Jack started jabbering about being let "out of jail" and generally annoying any medical personnel who would listen. As far as Sam was concerned, that was a good thing. It was the old Jack. More to keep him quiet than anything else Dr. Lam agreed to allow him to go home to Sam's house in Colorado Springs. Washington was out of the question. Stargate Command's CMO had insisted he not get any further out of her sight until he was stronger. Like it not Jack O'Neill was in for some painful rehab as he regained muscle tone and continued to recover from his injuries.

For now that much freedom would have to be enough. At home, the real challenges would begin.

The End

* * *

A/N: My thanks to everyone who has stayed with this to the end and special thanks to those of you who have reviewed along the way.

Please look for the sequel Love Is Not Enough, coming soon.


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